Grandpappy Walker
by TwiLyght Sans Sparkles
Summary: Walker went cold. "Madeline Walker Fenton, age 42. Husband is Jack, kids are Jasmine and...oh hell...Clockwork! This your idea of a joke?" Post PP.
1. Chapter 1

_This takes place about two years post PP. I haven't watched PP in forever, so I might get a couple details wrong..._

_And nobody ever really mentioned Maddie's maiden name or her family background, so I'm using that to my advantage. _

* * *

Elijah Walker was not a sissy. Never had been, never would be, and anyone who thought otherwise could pack their bags and hightail it out of there-provided they had the chance, of course. Not likely, but stranger things had happened. The bottom line was simple: He meant business, and business was serious. He could count on one hand the times in his life he'd refused to do something out of fear. Four of them had occurred before he reached his twentieth birthday.

But if he had known what Clockwork had planned to tell him that morning, he would have stayed in bed.

His shoes echoed on the stone floor as he entered Clockwork's lair. He'd tried to come up with a nicer word for it, one that didn't call to mind images of dragons and cheesy movie villains, but _lair_ was the only one that fit. He approached the massive sundial in the center of the room; Clockwork appeared with a manila folder. Not Clockwork's typical method of communication, but as a fan of manila folders, Walker couldn't complain.

"So what's this about, Clockwork?"

Clockwork regarded him with those dark eyes of his, taking on the form of a younger man. "I have noticed that the past two years have seen an increase in human-ghost interaction."

"You wantin' me to stop it? 'Cause I've tried harder than anyone-" Clockwork cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"No. It's continued for reasons both known and unknown."

Walker sniffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No need to be so mysterious about it."

To his mild surprise, Clockwork smiled. "One mystery is about to be solved, Elijah. One that has haunted you for quite some time." He opened the folder and handed it across. Photographs of two red-haired girls lay on top. Walker ran a finger over one of the older pictures.

"This...is...is this Maddie? Alicia?" He looked up. Clockwork smiled his encouragement.

"I thought you might enjoy catching up on what your family has been doing." He indicated a stone bench. "Take all the time you need."

Walker sat on the bench and spent the next few minutes looking through the photographs. Maddie and Alicia playing in a kiddie pool. Alicia on her first day of kindergarten, and Maddie on hers. Maddie with chicken pox, covered in calomine lotion. Alicia holding a kitten. Alicia, grinning broadly, her arms covered in bright red scratches. Maddie at Homecoming, arms linked with an acne-ridden football player. Alicia standing beside a car packed with suitcases and various odds and ends. Maddie on a college campus. He swatted impatiently at the tears that sprang to his eyes. He didn't want to wreck these pictures by crying on them.

Beneath the pictures were sheets of paper stapled together. A picture of Maddie was in the top left-hand corner of the first sheet; below was information about her.

Madeline Walker Fenton  
Age: 42  
Husband: Jack Fenton  
Children: Jasmine (20); Daniel (18)

Walker went cold. He read the information again, out loud this time, hoping it would somehow change. "Madeline Walker Fenton, age 42...Husband is Jack, kids are Jasmine and...oh _hell_." He looked up sharply. "Clockwork!"

"Yes?"

Walker held up Maddie's bio, jabbing the offending line with his finger. "This your idea of a joke?"

Clockwork was smiling. Smiling! "It's no joke, Elijah."

Walker stood angrily and paced. "Why'd you tell me this? Huh? I was doin' just fine before you decided to spring this on me!"

"Why do you think?"

Walker stopped midstride, banging his palm against his forehead as realization dawned.

Clockwork allowed the silence to linger for a moment. "If you're going to do it, Elijah," he finally said, "you'd best do it soon."

Walker sank onto the bench with a groan and buried his head in his hands. "Oh _hell_."

* * *

_Review! I command thee in the name of the sovereign state of Missouri! _


	2. Chapter 2

_Eighteen reviews for the first chapter? That's...weird...for me, anyways...and the tiniest bit frightening. Well, thanks to JuneLuxray, Kitty Ghost, Danny Phantom is a Girl, avearia, Invader Johnny, Yuul, Shakspr1048, E-Dantes, Garnet Sky, Dragongirl333, deadlydaisy8o8, angel-feather-keeper, aryaneragon4ever, flamingbunnies, DP-Demi-BringBackPhantom, Jiyle, Pixie dust of doom and xXxMartelxXx for scaring me a little. :P _

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* * *

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Danny led the small family through the maze of linen-covered tables, stopping beside one toward the back. Clutching the menus with one hand, he gestured to the table with the other.

"Oh, this is _perfect_," the young mother said, pulling out a chair.

Danny didn't remark that they had passed ten others just like it, two of which they had refused to eat at. Instead he smiled, waited for both children to wriggle into their seats, and began passing out the menus. "Our soups tonight are tomato basil and-"

"Aren't you Danny Phantom?"

The mom kicked the older boy under the table. "Sh! Peter! Don't interrupt!"

Danny laughed. "It's all good. Yeah, I'm Danny Phantom."

"Woah!"

"So you can walk through walls and stuff?"

"Yeah." He threw a quick glance over his shoulder at the lobby to see if anyone else required his attention, saw another host had it covered, and turned back to the two boys with a grin. "Wanna see something cool?"

They nodded.

"Watch this." He grabbed the small candle from the table's centerpiece and balanced it on his palm, raising it to about eye level. As the two boys watched, the candle fell through his hand. He caught it just before it hit the table and set it back in its place, bowing as the entire family applauded.

"All right," he said, seeing the other host motion to him. "Enjoy your meal." He hurried back to the lobby before they could ask for an encore.

"What's up?" he asked the other host, a blonde named Kim. She nodded toward a far corner of the waiting area, then went back to the seating chart.

"You've got a visitor."

Danny followed her gaze to where a tall, pale girl with ice-blue hair sat drumming her chipped black fingernails against the seat. She stood when he approached. "Ember? What're you doing here?"

"Well, that depends," she said, glancing around at the emptying restaurant. "When're you off?"

Danny immediately knew this wasn't a social call. Her stance and the quick glances over her shoulder proved it. "Why?"

"Just tell me. Is it soon?"

"I don't know. I think so, but if a bunch of people decide to come in late, I might end up staying another hour. Why?"

She bit her lip, looking away. "Walker sent me."

"Walker? Why?" He had moved closer, unconciously lowering his voice to a near-whisper as he pulled her through a glass door into the small foyer. "What'd I do this time?"

Ember shrugged. "I have no idea. He just asked for a favor and sent me to get you."

"Did he seem ...mad?"

"Dude, he's always mad. He didn't seem_ too_ angry, though, so it might not be a big deal-"

Danny turned away, toward the door. "Tell him I have plans, then."

Ember put her hands on her hips. "What plans?"

"I don't know yet. But tell him I have them."

"Oh no you don't," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder and spinning him around. "Right now, me coming after you is a favor. I go back without you and it's suddenly an order I didn't follow, Walker gets mad, you and I go on the run and finally end up in prison where instead of high-fiving each other the way friends in prison do, we're all mad at each other and start a food fight and get twenty years tacked on."

He brushed her hand off. "That is the weirdest thing you've ever said."

"Well, the weirdest thing _you've_ ever said is that you're not going to the Ghost Zone when Walker asked for you! Danny, that's retarded."

"Yeah. I know."

"Just come with me, okay? I'll wait outside and if anything goes wrong, make some noise and I'll come back you up." He glanced over his shoulder again. Kim was trying to watch them without giving the appearance of watching them. Ember's tone turned pleading. "Come on, Danny, please? I would really, _really_ not like to get on Walker's bad side."

Danny threw one last glance at the host stand, then sighed. "Fine. But if I go to prison again, _you're_ the one who's telling my parents."

"I'll bust you out. When are you off?"

A fist rapped on the window, making them both jump. The restaurant manager made a slashing motion across his throat, then gave him a thumbs-up. Danny sighed again. "Now."

Ember nodded. "Go clock off. I'll wait outside."

Danny nodded, exhaling. He didn't move. Ember gave his shoulder a gentle shove.

"Go on, let's get this over with." She smiled slightly. "Maybe it's not a big deal."

* * *

The ghost prison was quiet, which Danny decided was only reasonable this late at night, but it still gave him the creeps. Dingy white walls seemed to inch closer the farther he went, until he had to remind himself that walls didn't move and therefore couldn't crush him. He stopped just outside the door to Walker's office, ran shaking fingers through his white hair, and wished for the hundredth time he'd had time to change into something other than green jeans and a black T-shirt. The button-down shirt and tie he wore as a host would have felt more appropriate, but the Ghost Zone was too cold for his human form, and he'd rather face Walker in his ghost form anyway.

Danny raised his fist to knock, then dropped it again. _Calm down_, he chided himself for the tenth time. _You're here because he asked you to be. You didn't do anything wrong. _

That he knew of.

He took a deep breath and raised his fist again, suddenly angry that he was here at all. He could be home right now, trading restaurant war stories with Jazz over bowls of cereal or listening to Sam talk about her day. He could be watching TV or checking his email or doing any number of things, but here he was in the Ghost Zone, scared out of his wits because the prison warden thought he should be.

He banged his fist against the door.

"That you, Phantom?"

Danny kept his fist clenched long after he finished knocking. "Yeah. It's me."

A long moment passed. "Come on in."

Danny took a moment to check his fury. A nice, simmering rage; not enough to make him do anything rash, but hot enough to melt his fear.

Sufficiently angry enough to handle whatever it was Walker had to say, he pushed the door open.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Danny noticed was that Walker was sitting behind his desk. Usually the man was standing, pacing, or generally towering over whoever he wanted to intimidate at the moment. He gestured to a chair, and Danny sat, drumming his fingers against the scarred wooden arm, staring straight ahead. He wouldn't let this small change lower his guard. Still, he couldn't seem to look Walker in the eye.

Once he was in his seat, Walker looked away. He tapped a pencil against his desk calendar, studying the smudged lists of appointments as though they were to be the topic of discussion. Possible trial dates? No, Danny wouldn't get a trial. Only losers put teenage superheroes on trial. Tough guys just threw them in prison without a second glance.

Danny shifted his gaze to the clock. He watched the second hand complete its slow rotation and the minute hand jump ahead. As the silence approached the three-minute mark, his anger and apprehension grew until he could no longer contain the question.

"Do I get to know what this is about?"

The pencil stopped tapping against the calendar. Walker set it beside the page, folded his hands on his desk, and leveled a serious gaze.

"Your mom...Maddie. Did she ever tell you she used to live in Mississippi?"

_Mississippi?_ "She mentioned it," Danny said slowly. "How'd _you _know about it?"

Walker pressed on as though he hadn't heard the question. "How is she?"

"Fine." _Why do _you _care?_

"And your Aunt Alicia. Seen much of her lately?"

Danny remained slouched in his seat. Just act sullen, he told himself, resisting the urge to leap from his chair and scream his next question. "Since when do _you _know so much about my family? You been spying on me?"

Walker sighed, pushing his swivel chair away from his desk. "No, I haven't been spyin' on you. It's just...see, Maddie's my daughter and I wanted to know how she's doin'."

The word _daughter_ jolted Danny from his studied indifference. He started to leap from his chair but caught the arms just in time. "She's your _what_?"

"What I said. She's my daughter."

Danny stared. He knew his eyes must be the size of golf balls, his mouth hanging open, but he couldn't seem to do anything about it. Maddie couldn't be his daughter. If she was his daughter, that meant _he_ was...

Oh hell.

He forced himself back into his chair, calming a bit. Walker wasn't his grandfather. He couldn't be. This had to be some sort of trap. A cold smile lifted one corner of his mouth. "Nice try, Walker, but I'm not falling for _that._"

"Fallin' for...? Oh, I get it. You think this is a trap."

"What else would it be?" He stood and started for the door. "I'll just let myself out before you sic the guards on me. Nice talking with you." He chuckled, hand on the doorknob, and realized that Walker wasn't following or throwing a fit or calling for backup. Glancing back, he saw Walker standing, arms braced against the desk, head down. Danny raised an eyebrow. "Isn't this the part where you tell me there's no hope because you have fifty guards on duty and I'm just a kid?"

Walker didn't look up. He stood there, head down, hat brim lowered so Danny couldn't see his eyes. "August 18, 1976. Meridian, Mississippi. Should be in the paper. Front page, I reckon." When Danny didn't move, he raised his head. "You wanna go, go. I don't care."

He looked away. Danny hesitated for an instant, then swung the door open and set off down the hall.

* * *

The pressurized door seemed to take longer than usual to close, allowing the sound of Danny's receding footsteps to echo through Walker's office for a few minutes. They grew fainter and fainter as his grandson walked away, then faded altogether as the door clicked shut.

Grandson.

The word circled him like a vulture. Danny Phantom was his grandson. He believed it, even if Danny didn't. And why shouldn't he? For nearly forty years he'd thought of his two girls; for twenty he'd wondered about their children. Sons, daughters or both? Older, or still young enough to ask about Grandpa? Athletic, bookish, shy, outgoing...he'd thought of all the possibilities and left no stone unturned.

Except for one.

Twenty years he'd wished for a few minutes with the grandchildren he could never meet. Just a few minutes and that would be enough. He could ask about Maddie-or Alicia, depending on whose they were-listen to them talk about school and whatnot, and perhaps wave goodbye with plans for another meeting.

It wasn't his fault, was it? No, the blame here belonged to Clockwork. Stupid ghost couldn't even tell him who his grandkid was until years after the fact.

Danny Phantom was his grandson.

It figured, didn't it? It just figured that the one half-ghost hoodlum who had given him nothing but trouble for four years would be his grandson. It just figured that he wouldn't listen to the news. And it just figured that Clockwork would wait until now to cheerfully drop that bomb on his head.

With a growl, Walker picked up the pencil and bent it until it snapped. He threw the pieces into the metal wastebasket with a hollow clatter.

* * *

_So this chapter turned out a lot differently than what I had planned in my head...but then again, the characters usually do that to me. Can't cooperate to save their lives. :P _


	4. Chapter 4

It was after ten when Danny got home, and the lateness of the hour was the only thing that kept him from slamming the door on his way inside. He walked through it, not wanting to wake anyone. One look at his face and Maddie would know something was wrong. A few questions, maybe a threat or two, and he would spill the entire story. He imagined it as it would play out: She asked why he was home so late, he repeated what Walker said, and she...

She what? Laughed, maybe? That had to be it. Maddie would find the entire story hilarious, and maybe take on a touch of Danny's anger herself. He smiled slightly and headed for the kitchen, half-hoping she was there so he could tell her. Instead he found Jazz, taking a plate of leftovers out of the microwave.

"Hey Danny. What're you doing home so late?"

"Oh, you know. Lots of people, not enough servers, Walker telling me I'm his grandson...the usual."

Jazz set the plate on the counter and spun around. "You_ what_? Say that again?"

Danny leaned against the counter. "Toward the end of my shift, Ember showed up and told me Walker sent her. I went- more because I didn't want to get tossed in jail again than anything else- and he told me that Mom's his daughter and I'm his grandson." He looked up. Jazz's eyebrows were raised in disbelief, giving him an odd sense of triumph.

"What else did he say?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nope."

"How many guards did he have waiting outside?"

"None."

"Really? So it wasn't a trap?"

"Guess not."

Jazz put a hand on her hip. "So why'd he tell you that?"

Danny shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe he wanted to catch me off-guard so he could spring another trap later on." Jazz lifted her plate and took a bite, saying nothing. "I mean, that makes sense, right?"

She swallowed. "Not really. If I were going to spring a trap by telling someone _I_ was related to them, I'd do it while they were still surprised." Jazz twirled more pasta onto her fork, leaning casually against the counter. "What else did he say? I mean, what did he know?"

"Well...he knew Mom's name was Maddie...and that she had a sister named Alicia...but it's not hard to find that out."

"What else?"

"Um...he said Mom used to live in Mississippi."

"What city?"

"Meridian. Still, it's not hard to get that information from somewhere."

"But _why_, Danny? Why would he go to all that trouble of telling you he's your- our- grandpa, then just let you go? It doesn't make any sense."

"Jazz! You're not saying-"

She shrugged. "I'm just saying it _could_ be. I mean, if it wasn't a trap, then why else would he tell you?"

Danny looked away, teeth clenched. Jazz sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry if I offended you. But you have to admit it makes sense on one level."

"Yeah. The crazy one."

"Fine." She set her plate down, making him look up. "How about this. You and I do some research, and we'll see who's right. How's that sound?"

Danny raked his fingers through his hair, then loosened his tie. "_You_ can do the research. I'm going to bed."

"Oh, come on, Danny," she said as he left the kitchen, then threw her arms up in defeat as the door closed.

* * *

Jazz didn't make it to bed until nearly eleven. Once she was beneath the covers, she lay awake, pondering what Danny had told her.

Of the entire Fenton clan, Danny was the only one who had ever met Walker. All of Jazz's knowledge of him came from what Danny had said; precious little was kind. She had often sided with him, denouncing Walker's deeds as unfair, too strict, or simply insane. Danny was her little brother, after all. Big sisters were supposed to side with their brothers.

She didn't imagine any one of Danny's stories had been exaggerated. Had she not witnessed many of his battles, she would have thought most of them wildly implausible. And if Walker didn't know Danny was his grandson...well, it just made sense, didn't it? Walker was a common enough surname. That it was Maddie's maiden name could only be coincidence.

Jazz glanced at her clock. Eleven-thirty. With a sigh, she sat up, turned on her bedside lamp and grabbed her laptop from her backpack. Once she was online, she typed three words into the search engine: Meridian, Mississippi newspaper. Walker's obituary had to be in there somewhere.

* * *

One hour later, the computer screen still held Jazz in its faint blue glow. She blinked away fatigue, but it returned.

Why had she agreed to this? Why was she here at midnight, scouring the Internet for something she'd never find? After fifteen minutes of fruitless searching, she remembered Maddie had said she was eight when her father died. A quick calculation gave her the year 1976.

Forty-five minutes later, she was back almost where she started: staring at a blank search engine with only a vague idea of what she was doing. Of course they wouldn't have obituaries from 1976 on the Internet. Why would the website have an obituary for someone who had died before the Internet was invented?

Torn between her desire for sleep and desire to be proven right, she used the last combination she could think of: Walker 1976. Had she used it before? She couldn't remember. Shaking her head to clear it, she clicked through the pages. A headline caught her eye.

Officer Hosts Memorial for Thirtieth Anniversary of Partner's Death

Jazz clicked on the link and skimmed the first paragraph. "Officer Patrick Johnson, longtime member of the Lauderdale County Police Department, held a memorial fundraiser to commemorate the death of his partner, Elijah Walker..." She skipped down, hopes rising. "...killed in 1976."

She laughed a little. It seemed inappropriate to laugh about the thirtieth anniversary of a police officer's murder, but she did anyway. "You _knew_ I was right, Danny," she whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

Maddie was already up and dressed when Jazz padded down the stairs. A quick glance at the wall clock told her it was nearly ten-thirty. "You're up late."

"Yeah," Jazz yawned. "Good thing it's summer." She sank onto the sofa, combing fingers through her tangled red hair. "Hey Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Grampa- your dad- what was his first name?"

Maddie looked up from her magazine with a frown. "Elijah. Why do you ask?"

"And he died when you were eight, right?"

She gave a small laugh. "Since when are you so curious about him? You never met him."

"I know. I just wondered, that's all." Jazz looked as though she wanted to ask another question, but seemed to change her mind. She stood and headed for the stairs again. "I think I'll go take a shower. You needed my and Danny's help at the dojo today?"

"Yes. Your class is at one and Danny's is at two."

"So same as usual?"

"Yep."

Jazz nodded and climbed the stairs. Maddie stared after her for a moment, then returned to her magazine.

* * *

Maddie watched the dozen or so kindergarteners in white-belted uniforms mimic Jazz's stance, then kick at her command. At five-foot-eight her daughter towered over them; the smallest ones made her look like a giant. But it was all part of the training, Maddie had explained. Teaching the lower belts was part of the black belt test. She smiled faintly as Jazz maneuvered through the well-ordered lines of white belts, correcting this one's posture or that one's fist. "Thumb on the outside," Jazz explained, holding her own fist up as an example. "If you tuck it inside, what could happen?"

"It could get broken," a dark-haired girl said.

"That's right, it could break. And we don't want our thumbs to break, now do we?"

The class responded with a chorus of "No's".

"All right, then. Let's go through front kicks one more time, and then we'll move on to choke escapes. Ready?" She resumed her place at the front of the dojo, facing the mirrors. She began to count in Japanese, punctuating each number with a front kick. Her kicks could knock over the punching bags while most of these children were lucky if they made it tremble. Her grampa would be proud.

Maddie's smile turned to a frown. It wasn't that their grampa- her papa- wouldn't be proud; it was that he couldn't be. He was shot and buried thirty-four years ago. The kids hadn't met him. Maddie had barely known him. So why Jazz's sudden interest? It couldn't be for a school project; college was over for the year and Jazz wasn't taking any summer classes. Maybe a scholarship essay? That seemed the most likely explanation...but most scholarship deadlines were in April or May. Very few were even available in July.

"All right, everyone. Find a partner and we'll practice our choke escapes." The children quickly paired off, and Jazz caught Maddie's eye. She smiled her encouragement and gave a thumbs-up. _You're doing fine, sweetie. _

Jazz smiled and rolled her eyes. _These kids are impossible! _

Maddie smiled, but couldn't bring herself to laugh. There was something more behind her daughter's questions. It would take a complete idiot to not see it. But to see what it was? Even the sharpest maternal instincts couldn't do that.

* * *

She stayed through Danny's class, watching from the sidelines as she had with Jazz. Her son's group encompassed a wider range of ages, from fidgety thirteen-year-olds to older teenagers and young adults a few years older than he. It had happened by mutual agreement: Jazz was better with kids, and Danny was better with students his own age. Jazz treated the youngest white belts with a patience Danny lacked, and hormonal teenage boys didn't flirt with Danny Phantom. Maddie thought they might encounter problems when Dash Baxter joined the white belt class, but so far he and Danny seemed to have reached a truce.

"Knee over the toe, Dash," Danny said, whacking his foot with the tip of a bamboo sword. The blond winced, then corrected his stance. Maddie saw Paulina make the same correction before Danny could reach her foot. "Good," he said when he saw her, and she beamed a little. "Nice, Kwan, very nice, good posture...All right, let's head to the punching bags!" They formed three lines in front of the three punching bags. Under Danny's supervision, they took turns leveling front kicks to the targets. The line had hardly moved when Danny began shouting for them to stop. They stepped back as Danny stepped up to the closest bag.

"Your retraction is too slow. You leave your foot out too long and what'll happen?"

Silence. Danny answered his own question.

"Your opponent will grab it, that's what. You'll end up with a twisted ankle and probably a few other injuries to boot. _This_ is how you do it." He delivered a powerful front kick to the bag, knocking it to the floor. "See my foot? _That's_ how fast your retraction needs to be."

Maddie watched him right the heavy punching bag, then motion for the wide-eyed white belts to continue kicking as though nothing had happened. She knew better. She had seen the flash of anger in his blue eyes, and he never kicked over a punching bag unless something was terribly wrong. Maddie continued her observation, making a mental note to talk to him after class.

* * *

_I will explain the dojo thing in later chapters, but all of the martial arts stuff here was taken from my own experience training. My sensei really would smack your toes with a bamboo sword if you got your stance wrong. And yes, it did hurt. Extra motivation to get it right the first time, eh? _


	6. Chapter 6

Danny bowed, dismissing the class. Straightening, he saw Maddie wave him over. He joined her at the front counter. "Yeah Mom? What is it?"

She lowered her voice slightly as white belts filtered out of the dojo. "I was just wondering if something's wrong."

His stomach clenched, but he shook his head. "No, nothing's wrong."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine, Mom."

Maddie leaned back, hand on her hip. "Really? Because you seemed pretty upset with that bag back there."

Crap. He'd nearly forgotten she was watching. "Just felt like kicking something over, I guess. You know when you just wanna _kick_ something?"

She folded her arms over her chest. "Come on, Danny. Just tell me what's wrong so I can teach the next class."

He felt the back of his neck, looking away. "Nothing. Really."

Her bare foot tapped the thin carpet. "You may as well tell me now, because we're just going to keep standing here until you spit it out. So...tell me. What's going on?"

_She's acting like Walker_, he thought with a jolt. Two days ago he wouldn't have made the connection, but now it was impossible not to see. The thought disturbed him.

Danny looked up. Seeing her face, all business and the assurance she was right, Danny decided he had to know. Her reaction would tell him everything. He took a deep breath. "What would you do...hypothetically speaking...if someone you hated told you you were related to them?"

Maddie frowned. "Who told you that? When?"

He fought the urge to look away, watching her face carefully. "There's this ghost. His name's Walker, and...well, he told me I'm his grandson."

Maddie's mask of indignation and impatience slipped. She blinked, wide-eyed, grabbing his arm. "W-Walker? Wha...why...what else did he say?"

Danny swallowed, suddenly wishing he'd kept dodging her questions. "Uh...nothing, really. He mentioned he had a daughter named Maddie and one named Alicia, but you know...it could've been anyone."

Maddie drew back. Her mouth moved, saying nothing. "I...I need to go," she said at last. "You and Jazz take this class. You can handle it, right?"

"Mo-om! It might not be him- he could've been talking about anybody!"

She appeared not to hear him. Maddie ducked through the stream of blue and yellow belts trickling through the door and out onto the sidewalk. Danny considered chasing her, but it was already after the hour. He needed to get the class started. "Stupid Mom," he muttered as he took the instructor's place at the front of the class. "Probably isn't even him."

* * *

Once she was free of the small crowd, Maddie climbed into her car and slammed the door. She gripped the steering wheel but didn't start the engine, nor did she look out at the occasional pedestrian giving her an odd glance.

Papa was alive.

Not alive in the traditional sense, but not dead in the traditional sense, either. Danny had met him, at any rate, and had seen him long enough to be angry about it.

How long had he known?

On an impulse, Maddie started the engine and pulled out into traffic. She'd left her shoes in the dojo, but her feet were just calloused enough to stand the short drive back to the house. Danny and Jazz had the class covered, and Jack was still at home. He could monitor the Speeder from the lab and back her up if anything went wrong.

* * *

"Mad? That you?" Jack watched her descend the stairs, still barefoot in her gi. "Home already?"

"Yeah." The red Japanese lettering on her black belt bounced against her thigh as she came forward. "I need a coat and the Speeder."

Jack knew what that meant. It didn't mean he had to support the idea. "I hope you have a good reason for this."

She inhaled deeply. "My papa might be there. Danny met him- wasn't too happy about it, from the way it sounded- and I don't even know if it's him, but..." She looked into his eyes. "I have to know, Jack. If I can see him, even just once..."

Jack smiled. "Your coat's in the closet. I'll get the Speeder ready and monitor you from here."

Maddie returned his smile. She looked relieved, though Jack couldn't imagine why. "Thanks, Jack." She kissed his cheek, then turned and clattered up the stairs. Jack watched her for a minute, then began readying the Speeder.

* * *

At first Maddie wasn't sure what she'd wear. She considered changing into her suit- it was thermal controlled, after all- but discarded the idea. Meeting one's long-lost father in a hazmat suit seemed a bit tacky. A pair of dark pants and a red blouse caught her eye, and she had her hand on the silky fabric when she dismissed that idea as well. Better to go now, without changing. Better to throw on a coat and a pair of tennis shoes and head into the Ghost Zone before the shock wore off and she realized what a bad plan this was.

What if Danny was mistaken? What if this Walker wasn't Elijah? What if it _was _her papa, but he was so changed by the Ghost Zone that he didn't recognize his daughter? Maddie didn't allow herself to consider any of those questions. She pulled on a pair of socks and an ankle-length parka, yanked the hood over her hair, and thundered downstairs to the lab.

"That was quick," Jack said when she approached.

"I kind of want to get this over with now," she said, knowing Jack understood. If she didn't leave now, she'd drag logic into the equation and never see Papa.

Papa.

That one word and all that came with it- his deep, mellow drawl; his kind yet piercing gaze with eyes that crinkled when he smiled; his laugh that always seemed to fill the room- was enough to make Maddie throw caution to the wind. Enough to make her do something crazy, like throw on a coat and dash into the Ghost Zone in search of a man named Walker.

"You'd better get going," Jack said quietly.

Maddie nodded and climbed into the Speeder. The door closed with a hiss and Jack took his place at one of the lab's consoles. She gave him a thumbs-up, then steered the Speeder through the open portal.

* * *

_Again, the characters took over and started writing for me. Oh well. Means I don't have to work as hard! Tom Sawyer moments for the win! :P_


	7. Chapter 7

Darkness engulfed her. It was like being out in space might be, she mused, but with floating doors that emitted a faint glow and the occasional passing ghost glimpsed from a distance instead of stars. Maddie kept the gap between her and the ghosts wide, hoping she wouldn't be noticed until she needed to be. At this point, being spotted by a ghost would be far more dangerous than passing too close to a star or a black hole. While it was true that Danny had befriended some of his former enemies, Maddie still didn't fancy tempting fate. She had only met a handful of them, after all.

The absurdity of her plan struck her once again, and she nearly spun the wheel around and darted back through the portal. This wasn't necessary. She could find some other way. A safer way. A saner way.

But, she reasoned, she'd come this far already. Might as well stick it through to the end.

"How you doing, Mad?" Jack's voice said over the intercom.

"Fine," she replied, certain he could hear the slight tremor in her voice. "This place always gives me the creeps."

"Don't know how Danny spends so much time there."

"Well, maybe actually_ being _a ghost helps." She looked up at the array of doors surrounding her. "Might make all these doors less confusing. Seriously, how many doors do they _need_?"

Jack chuckled. "Are any of them marked? Danny might've left some clues behind."

"Let me see..." She studied each of the nearest doors through the windshield. Many were unmarked- live there long enough and you only use a couple of doors, Maddie figured- but a few bore streaks of paint or carefully crafted burns. Her son was putting his wilderness survival skills to good use.

Maddie steered the Speeder to the next cluster of doors, studying the marks carefully. _Ember_ was scrawled across one in blue paint; _Hey, you remembered my name!_ was written below it in black nail polish, with_ Duh!_ below that in blue. She laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Danny."

"What'd he do this time?"

"I'll tell you when I get back." She headed over to another cluster. These were entirely unmarked. Danny must not frequent these. The next cluster bore mostly burns, but no easily discernable message. She was about to give into her nerves and turn around when a door to her right caught her eye.

It was white- or had been, beneath the smudged burn marks and streaks of paint. A large red X took up most of the door, and a crudely drawn face with X's for eyes and a tongue hanging from its mouth covered the bottom. A piece of computer paper attached to the top of the door with wide strips of packing tape declared ABANDON HOPE ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE in large black letters. Pieces of tape with bits of paper stuck on bore witness to another sign that had been torn down.

_"What would you do- hypothetically speaking- if someone you hated told you you were related to them?" _

Maddie held the microphone to her lips. "I think I found it, Jack."

* * *

Stepping out of the Speeder, Maddie decided to knock. She rapped her fist against the door, silently hoping this wasn't Danny's doing. A yellow Post-it note on the handle caught her eye.

_Vandalism is a crime, Phantom! _

Maddie exhaled, shoving the note into her coat pocket. When she got home, she and Danny would have a long conversation about this.

The door swung open, making her jump. Not that it was easy to jump in zero gravity, but jump she did. A young-looking ghost with a uniform similar to a police officer's frowned at her. "You lost, ma'am?"

"No, I...I'm looking for a man...a-a ghost. His name is Elijah Walker. Is he here?"

The officer eyed her suspiciously. "And why do you want to see him?"

Maddie hesitated. Saying _"Oh, I don't know. I'm relatively certain he's my father, even though I haven't seen him in thirty-four years, and I was wondering if you could go grab him for me?" _seemed ridiculous. At best, it would get the door slammed in her face. But she had no idea what he did now or what a good reason for seeing him would be. "Tell him my name is Maddie. Madeline Fenton. My maiden name was Walker," she added when he looked at her doubtfully.

"All right, Mrs. Fenton," he said, looking past her. "Why don't you bring your, er, vehicle inside the gates." He waved to another officer, and he hurried over. "You and Shapiro get a couple squad cars and escort her inside. Watch her until I get the go-ahead," he told him, then turned away without another word to Maddie.

* * *

He rapped on the Speeder's window a moment later, and Maddie swung the door open. "Sorry," she said. "The windows don't roll down."

The officer tilted his head toward the imposing white building a short distance away. "Walker told me to bring you inside, Mrs. Fenton. Shapiro and Ramirez will watch your vehicle."

Maddie tried to discern the meaning behind his words, but his face was so sternly professional he may as well have been wearing a mask. Nodding (she didn't trust herself to speak) she climbed out of the Speeder and slammed the door, locking it just in case. The anti-ghost sheild would protect it if these officers decided to have it impounded.

She followed the officer into the building. Even if she hadn't seen the six-inch metal letters proclaiming it the Ghost Zone Correctional Facility, the thick walls and barbed wire told her it was a prison. Papa, if this was Papa, after all, must be in charge. The thought he might be one of the inmates was laughable. Besides, the officer had gotten his permission from this Walker.

Maddie's heart pounded as she followed the officer down the hallway, her breath coming out in soft cloud puffs. _You're human_, she told herself again and again. _If anything goes wrong, you can run through a wall before they reach the door. You'll be fine. It'll be fine. _

They stopped and knocked on a white metal door. "Come in," said a voice that made Maddie's heart race faster. Did she recognize it? Of course she did- but maybe it just sounded like his voice. Everyone sounded like someone.

The officer held the door open for her. She took a few steps inside, halting a few feet in front of the desk.

It was him, all right. Older, definitely paler, and glowing a little, but there was no mistaking him for anyone else. Tears filled her eyes, and she covered her mouth with her hand. All rehearsed greetings, all planned questions, fled from her mind as she smiled through her tears.

"Hi, Papa."


	8. Chapter 8

He listened to the sound of her feet padding down the hall, the quiet _squeak-squeak _of her sneakers on the tile amplified by the prison's silence. Truth be told, he was a bit nervous. And why shouldn't he be, he reasoned? His youngest daughter had come all the way from a parallel dimension to see him.

When the guard left the office, Walker was sitting behind his desk. By the time Maddie's footsteps were outside his door, he was drumming his fingers against the coffee pot near the window, trying to decide whether or not to pour a cup. It would give him something to do, sure, but if Maddie showed up while he was still pouring the coffee, she might think he was trying to ignore her.

"Here she is, Walker." Walker looked up sharply.

She wore a black parka down to her ankles, common enough for a human paying a visit to the Ghost Zone. The fur-lined hood had slipped, and her red hair was slightly mussed from being covered. She stared for a moment, as if trying to decide whether she knew him or not. He froze. She wouldn't recognize him. She'd take a slightly longer look, then turn away without a word. No, worse: She'd ask, and he'd have to prove it somehow...

Then her eyes filled, and she covered her smile with her hand. "Hi, Papa."

His nervousness vanished, and a smile lit his face. "Look at you," he said softly, moving out from behind his desk. "My little Maddie, all grown up."

She laughed, then threw her arms around him. It only took a second for the shock to wear off; then he returned the embrace. He didn't know if the officer was still in the doorway, and he didn't care. Maddie was here. Nothing else mattered.

Maddie cried, her tears hot against his shoulder. "I missed you, Papa."

Walker held her close, tears slipping quietly down his cheeks.

* * *

Danny wasn't too worried when Maddie didn't return for the remainder of the class. He wasn't expecting her back, anyway. More likely than not she had simply gone home, made a cup of tea and sat on the sofa while she processed what he'd told her. After half an hour or so of internal debate, she had probably decided her father and the Warden couldn't possibly be the same Walker, finished her tea and headed back to the dojo.

When he and Jazz had to begin the orange and purple belt class, he became concerned. Maybe she was taking the realization harder than he'd thought. Maybe he'd gotten her hopes up too high, and when she realized they couldn't be the same person, it must have disappointed her so much she stayed home and watched mindless TV for a few hours. She'd be back before too long. Danny decided he wouldn't mention any of it. He would simply let her take over, maybe hang around and watch the lower belts practice, then head home with Jazz and call Sam. He hadn't told Sam about Walker yet, and he decided he would. They'd have a good laugh, then talk about anything else. Work, friends, the weather, toenail clippings- it didn't matter to him. Sam could make anything interesting.

It wasn't until the orange and purple belts were lined up to be dismissed that he started to panic.

The green and brown belts entered the dojo, and Danny and Jazz went through the opening ceremony. Once that was done, Danny looked at the clock, then the class.

"Sorry my mom's not here today," he said. "I know Jazz and I aren't completely qualified to teach all of you, but since Mom isn't here, I guess we'll have to do. So how about we work with you green belts, and you brown belts can practice whatever you feel you need to work on."

The hour passed that way, with Danny and Jazz going through choke escapes, holds and katas with the green belts while their fellow brown belts beat up punching bags and practiced various fighting techniques. When he saw one standing off alone, he considered handing the green belts off to Jazz while he asked the other brown belt to spar with him. Then he pictured Maddie frowning at him- _"Don't pick fights with your fellow students, Danny."_ -and the moment passed.

The class was drawing to a close when Maddie entered the dojo, wearing her gi and a smile she couldn't seem to lose. Danny caught her eye and gave her a questioning look. The smile broadened.

Fighting panic, Danny drifted through the closing ceremony while Jazz said the traditional Japanese phrases. When she finally bowed and said "Class dismissed," he fairly ran to the counter, barely remembering to bow his way out of the dojo.

"Hey Mom," he said as casually as he could. "You're back late."

Maddie glanced at the clock, though he was certain she already knew what time it was. "I know. I figured you and Jazz could handle this class, but I thought I should probably make it back for the black belts."

"Are...are you okay?"

She laughed. "Of course I'm okay! Why wouldn't I be?"

Danny shrugged. "I dunno...just wondered."

"Why don't you and Jazz head home? Change into something nice. I'll take the next class, then come back and help with dinner."

_Oh no. _"Is...is someone coming over?"

"Mmhmm." Maddie peeled off her socks and shoved them into her tennis shoes, then stuffed her shoes into a cubbyhole beneath the counter.

He didn't want to ask, afraid he already knew the answer. "Who?"

"Your grandpa." Maddie glanced at the clock, still grinning. "Go home and get ready. He'll be here soon."


	9. Chapter 9

Jack poured croutons into a bowl and handed it to Jazz, who carried it to the table. He chopped carrots and tossed them into a bowl that was still only half-filled with lettuce.

"You'll need to tear that lettuce faster, Danny, if you want the salad to be finished by the time your mother gets home."

Danny muttered something under his breath, but increased his pace somewhat. Jack glanced at the clock, saw they had a few minutes, and checked on the garlic bread. Maddie had told him to just throw something in the oven, but as it was his father-in-law coming for dinner, he wanted to make something that at least looked impressive. Spaghetti, garlic bread and salad wasn't beyond Jack's cooking skills, and it was far less lame than frozen pizza.

He stirred the spaghetti sauce, tasted a noodle, lifted the pot from the burner and poured its contents into the strainer. "That salad just about done, Danny?"

Danny growled in response.

"Just be sure it's done by the time she gets here," he said. At this point, acknowledging Danny's bad mood or addressing the causes would only make it worse. Better to simply ignore it and have the discussion later, when there was time to drag all his excuses out into the open. "How's the table look, Jazz?"

"Looks good to me," she called from the dining room.

"Make sure it'll look good to your mother." No doubt it would, knowing Jazz, but Jack thought he'd make sure she knew the standard anyway. He poured the noodles back into the pot, thought better of it and grabbed a glass bowl from the cupboard. It wasn't every day you met your long-dead father-in-law.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the five of them were seated around the table. Three humans, a half-ghost, and a ghost, one of which was Jack's son and one of which was his father-in-law. And at the moment, they were seated at opposite ends of the table, tossing dirty looks at each other when Maddie's attention appeared to be elsewhere.

Ah, well. Jack had given up on normal long before it gave up on him.

Jack twirled pasta onto his fork, watching Maddie as she and her father animatedly rehashed stories from her childhood.

"I remember that time that sixth grader was pickin' on you," Walker was saying. "I kept tellin' you to just hit him."

"I remember that guy!" Ten minutes was all Maddie needed to take on a touch of her father's drawl. Jack wondered if she noticed. "I didn't want to go near him 'cause he was so _big_!"

"'Course, you were what- six?"

"Six, yeah. I was just about to start first grade." Her gaze swept the table, addressing the rest of the story to her family. "So anyway, one day I just got sick of the guy, and I saw him on the sidewalk-"

"Waited 'til he gave her an excuse," Walker put in.

"Yeah, I waited until he came up and said 'Well, if it isn't Little Miss Walker?' And he grabbed my shoulder, so I spun around and punched-"

"Had to stand on tiptoe to reach his face, but she broke his nose!" Walker laughed and put his arm around Maddie.

Jack glanced at Danny. His son was the only one at the table not laughing as he pushed pasta around on his plate- another topic for the long talk they'd have later. "So what do you do, Elijah? Job-wise?"

"He runs the prison," Danny said before Walker could answer. "Runs pretty well, from an inmate's perspective."

Walker tossed his fork onto his plate with a clatter. "You just _had_ to bring that up."

"Of course I had to bring it up! Why wouldn't I?"

Maddie looked at him. "Danny, what are you talking about?"

"I never told you how we met, did I?" Danny gestured to Jack with his fork. "Remember when you lost that anniversary present? I went into the Ghost Zone to get it, and _Grandpa_ here decided to toss me in jail!"

Walker stood, gripping the table. "I didn't know!"

"Oh, yeah right!"

"Really, I didn't!"

"Oh, yeah. It's not like I _tried_ to tell you. It's not like I _tried_ to give you a _reason_ for being there-"

Walker jabbed a finger at Danny, a flash of green growing in his palm. "You watch your mouth, young man!"

Danny leapt to his feet, eyes glowing. "You watch yours!"

Maddie's fist pounded the table, making them all jump. When the clatter died away, she was on her feet, regarding them all with a cool stare Jack had learned to fear. "Jack. Why don't you take Jasmine to the store for some dessert. I'll handle this."


	10. Chapter 10

Jack nearly leapt from his chair, and Jazz stood so quickly hers almost turned over. They hurried to the front door, Jazz pausing to grab her purse from the living room. The door slammed a moment later.

Maddie calmly went to the home security console on the wall by the stairs. She flipped the cover open, entered a code, and pressed a button. Instantly the house was surrounded by a curtain of shimmering green.

She went back to the table and took a seat. Neither Danny nor Walker looked at her. "All right," she said, folding her hands on the table. "Now that the ghost sheild's up, you have ten seconds to start filling me in on what's been going on with you two, both sides, from the beginning, or I'll get the bazooka."

Neither moved or spoke.

"Nine seconds."

Danny exhaled. "Well, it started with the anniversary present. I was just minding my own business, trying to find that stupid present, and then Walker here decided to arrest me!"

"You had unauthorized recording equipment! Not to mention you were trespassin'."

"On _what?_ The Box Ghost? Admit it, I didn't do anything!"

"Now listen here-"

"And _then_," Danny continued, jabbing a finger at Walker, "then he framed me for attacking the mayor! He's framed me for a million things I didn't do, just because he assumed I was up to something-"

"Nine times outta ten, you were!"

"There is no way you can know that! You're just assuming again!"

"Stop it, stop it! Both of you!" Maddie was on her feet again. She gripped the edge of the table and fought for control. If someone was going to be the adult in this situation, it would have to be her. Taking a deep breath, she looked up. "I _meant_ one at a time. _Calmly_. Do I need to get the talking stick?"

Danny put a hand to his forehead. "No, Mom, please, not the talking stick," he groaned.

"Well, if neither of you can discuss this like mature adults, I'll just have to treat you like four-year-olds. Now, let's start over. Danny. Without raising your voice, tell me your version of what happened."

Danny slouched in his chair, arms folded over his chest. "Just like I said. Remember four years ago, when Dad lost that anniversary present? Well, it fell into the Ghost Zone, I went to get it back, Grandpa showed up, took away the headset thing Sam and Tucker were using to help me find it and tossed me in prison!" He ran his fingers through his dark hair. "I might still be there if Sam and Tucker hadn't conveniently rescued me before dinner time."

He hadn't shouted, per se, but as he told the story his voice rose. Maddie decided to ignore it. "And the mayor?"

"That major ghost attack, four years ago? Him. Know how it looked like I attacked the mayor? Also him. He overshadowed the mayor so I'd look bad and- again- get sent to prison. Stupid one-track mind."

"I see." Maddie drew in a breath, willing herself not to process the information Danny had given her. She would do that later, when she had both sides and spare time. "Papa?"

Walker paused for a long moment, staring at the floor. "All right, I admit the ghost attack _was_ overkill. But you gotta understand, the Zone's not a great place for anyone. You got ghosts who think they're invincible, ghosts who think they're in charge, ghosts who think they can do whatever they want 'cause they got all the time in the world and nothing to lose. Younger ones, especially."

Maddie saw Danny had his mouth firmly shut, glaring at the table.

"What I got Danny for...those are serious problems. The department gets calls about 'em every day- especially the real world contraband."

"How is _that _a problem?" Maddie almost told him not to interrupt, but he continued. "I mean, when I got there, all I saw was mostly socks and whatnot. Seems like that'd cause more problems for everyone out here who can't find their socks than it would for you."

Walker sighed. "You wouldn't believe the stuff that makes some folks crazy. They find a sock and all of a sudden they start thinkin' how it looks like one their sister had, and then they decide to bring it back and see if it is, and before you know it they're goin' after the drunk that got 'em there in the first place. And the recording equipment...well, sometimes they decide to make a home video. Send it to friends on the outside. You can imagine what _that_ does."

Maddie leaned back in her chair. "Anything else either of you would like to add?"

Staring at the floor, Danny shook his head. "Papa?"

"No."

She exhaled. "All right. Papa, why don't you head back. I'll talk with Danny and drop by again tomorrow. That work?"

"Sure."

Maddie stood and crossed to the console, entered another code and tapped a button. The ghost sheild vanished. "C'mon, I'll walk you downstairs."

* * *

Neither of them spoke as they descended the stairs into the basement. The ghost portal glowed just ahead, a swirling mass of black and green. They stopped in front of it, and Maddie looked up at her father.

"Sorry dinner was such a disaster."

"I figured it might be."

She shook her head, looking away. "Danny mentioned you didn't get along, but..." Forgetting the rest of her sentence, she looked up quizzically. "Did you really send him to prison?"

He hesitated for so long Maddie was afraid she already knew the answer. "Yeah. I did."

"How long?"

"Er..."

"Tell me."

"A thousand."

"Days?"

"Years."

Maddie just looked at him.

"Like I said, I mighta gone a bit overboard, and a thousand years ain't exactly a slap on the wrist, but-"

Maddie sighed. "Just go. I'll talk to Danny. Hopefully we'll get this straightened out somehow."

Walker started for the portal, then turned back. "You said you're comin' tomorrow?"

"Yeah. How's three sound?"

"Three works." He vanished into the portal. Maddie sighed and turned away, shutting off the portal and the lights as she ascended the stairs.

* * *

_If you know of any episodes where Walker did something heinous/ jerkish/ downright crazy, PM me and let me know. I don't think he appeared in that many episodes, but if he has any appearances besides "Prisoners of Love" and "Public Enemies," tell me please. :)_


	11. Chapter 11

Danny tapped his pen against the seating map as Sam entered the restaurant. He exhaled as she approached the host stand and rested her elbows casually against it.

"Hey Sam."

"Hey. So... I heard about dinner last night."

"Did Jazz tell you?"

"What she saw. I guess she and your dad left halfway through?"

"Yeah." He glanced over his shoulder, then handed her the clipboard. "Quick, before the manager comes back- would you mind beating me unconcious with this?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "No, Danny, I'm not going to beat you unconcious with your clipboard. It's not _that_ bad."

"Not that bad? Sam, I just found out that the psychotic prison warden who's been after me since he decided I was up to something is my grandfather! Now Mom wants us all to be one big happy family, and..." He sighed. "This sucks."

"Well, he _is_ her dad."

"Sam! Whose side are you on?"

She shrugged. "I'm just saying. So what happens now?"

"I don't know. She left for the Ghost Zone about an hour before I came here. Said she was gonna talk to him." Danny rested his forehead against the host stand. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Oh, c'mon, Danny. Look on the bright side." He raised his head. Sam smiled slightly. "Now that he knows you're related, he probably won't toss you in prison again."

* * *

The next afternoon, Maddie knocked on Danny's door as he was getting ready for work.

"Come into the living room when you're done, okay? I've got something to talk to you about."

Danny nodded, pretending her newfound accent didn't grate on his last nerve. 'Newfound' was a bit of a misnomer; Maddie had mentioned losing her accent early in high school. Shortly after meeting Walker, however, she had taken on a touch of his drawl- and hadn't dropped it since. As if hearing it every time Walker opened his mouth wasn't bad enough.

He descended the stairs and stepped into the living room, finding, as expected, Jack and Jazz seated on the sofa. Maddie stood in the center beside a whiteboard, tapping a marker against her palm. Walker sat on the loveseat.

Danny's eyes narrowed, but Maddie's look kept him silent. He took a seat on the overstuffed chair, which was too close to the loveseat for his liking, but also happened to be the only other available seat in the room. "So what's this about, Mom? I have work in twenty minutes."

Maddie smiled. "Don't worry, Danny. This won't take long. Grandpa has to get back to work soon anyway." She uncapped the marker and wrote on the board in capital letters: FAMILY DINNERS.

Danny slammed his palm into his forehead before he could stop himself. Maddie plunged ahead as though she didn't notice. "Once a week, we're all going to have dinner together as a family. Before we start this little tradition, I thought we should lay down some ground rules."

She even growled _rules_ the same way Walker did. Perfect.

"Rule number one: All family members will approach the table _unarmed_." She wrote NO WEAPONS! on the board. "If you happen to be a ghost, a brown belt or both, you will pretend to be unarmed until dinner is over.

"Rule number two: No bringing up the past." NO EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE took its place beneath the first rule. Danny raised his hand. "Yes, Danny?"

"What if we start talking about the Civil War or something?"

Maddie's eyes narrowed. "You know what I mean, Danny. Don't be a smart alek. Moving on."

Danny glanced at Walker, half-expecting to see him smiling smugly. His green eyes remained fixed on Maddie.

"Rule number three: Everyone must attend." NO SKIPPING appeared on the board. "Unless you have the Ebola virus or something similar- and believe me, I'll know if you're faking it- you'll show up and you'll stay until dinner is over." Stepping back, Maddie capped the marker. "That's about it. Any questions?"

"Nope." Danny stood. "Can I leave now?"

Maddie sighed. "Yes, Danny. You can go."

Danny strode through the living room wall without looking back. "Just give him time," he heard Maddie say as he left.

_Hah_, Danny wanted to tell her. _Fat chance_.

* * *

_This chapter ended up being a lot shorter than I had planned. Sorry if it seemed a bit fillerish, but the next few will get right back into the swing of things. ;) _

_Oh, and thanks to everyone who directed me to "Claw of the Wild," and to Dark Nightingale Wings for the link to the DP Wiki site. Much obliged. _


	12. Chapter 12

"Go through the door with a clock drawn on it, look for the citadel," Maddie repeated to herself as she scanned the nearby doors. Easier said than done. Danny's directions would have been easy enough to follow, had it not been for the doors' annoying habit of changing position every few hours. Just when you thought you remembered where a door was, it casually floated over to join a more interesting cluster while another took its place.

For the second time in two weeks, Maddie had only a vague idea of what she was doing and a strong feeling she should be doing something else. A former ghost hunter dashing into the Ghost Zone alone- albeit with enough weaponry for a small militia- was easy prey for anyone with a bone to pick. But after asking Papa how he found her and hearing his answer, she knew she had to take the risk.

Aha! A stone door with a crudely drawn clock on it floated before her. Maddie took a deep breath and guided the Speeder through, then steered it toward a distant tower. _This is crazy, Mad. It's crazy. You're crazy. _

_Am not, _she countered lamely, closing the gap between the door and the tower. She parked the Speeder, stepped out and locked the door. _Don't knock this is crazy he'll slam the door in your face and walk away..._

Maddie knocked. The sound echoed off the stones, making it ten times louder. _Just leave, Mad, people play Ding Dong Ditch all the time not with the Master of Time but there's a first time for everything..._

The door creaked open. An icy-skinned ghost in a dark cloak smiled at her. "Madeline Fenton. I've been expecting you." He opened the door to her.

Heart pounding, Maddie stepped through.

* * *

She followed Clockwork through a passage, up a winding staircase, and down another passage, not trusting herself to speak. The walls were covered by clocks of all sorts- bright red digital, old-fashioned pendulum, wall clocks with Roman numerals, wall clocks with regular numbers, and, if she wasn't mistaken, a pink one with Hannah Montana's grinning face beneath the hands. She blinked, and found herself staring at a grandfather clock. The Hannah Montana clock must have been imagined. The Master of Time wouldn't have a Hannah Montana wall clock.

It wasn't until they reached what Maddie assumed to be the center of his lair- a wide, circular room with a sundial at the center- that she cleared her throat and formed the question.

"So I...I guess you're the one who told Papa."

Clockwork nodded once. "I did."

"I-I was wondering...not that I'm not glad you told him, of course...but why _now_?"

Clockwork floated over to a shelf crammed with picture frames. Maddie stepped closer and saw the pictures move, like figures on a small television screen. "You're aware of the fact that they met four years ago."

"Yes. Danny told me."

"They could have known then, had either of them connected the dots."

"Well, there's the problem," Maddie said, daring a step or two forward. "They didn't know there were any dots to connect."

"You did. However, young Daniel wouldn't have told you his secret until circumstances forced it upon him."

Maddie smiled sadly. "No. He's stubborn that way."

"They both are." Maddie was certain she heard a smile in his tone. "Daniel would argue with a street sign and end up lost. Elijah has, on several occasions."

She laughed. It was easy to picture Papa doing that.

Clockwork set the frame down. "I intervened because it was time, Madeline. Had I waited any longer, neither would have accepted the truth."

"Then why didn't you tell _me_? Four years, two years ago? Or...or even longer than that. Back when Jack and I first started ghost hunting?"

He faced her. "Would you have understood?"

Maddie considered that. Would she have understood what she had? That it was her papa and not some wicked illusion? "No," she said softly. "I wouldn't have understood."

Clockwork turned back to the shelf and studied another frame. For a long moment the only sound in the tower was the loud ticking of a thousand clocks. "They are both remarkably stubborn. Both strong in many ways. And they both need you to guide them."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"For two years, Daniel's choice made him suffer many things needlessly. Insufficient training. The burden of a secret identity. Guilt from incessantly covering his tracks." He faced her again. "And for thirty-four years, a father has been driven nearly mad by separation from his wife and daughters."

Maddie turned her attention to a nearby grandfather clock, allowing his words a moment to sink in. "So what do I do, Clockwork? If they both need me so badly, what am I supposed to do?"

He was silent for a moment. "The weekly family dinners are a good idea, and Daniel's training does more for him than you realize." As if sensing him doing the same, she turned and faced him. "Elijah takes his lunch break around twelve-thirty. Surprise him one day."

"It sounds so simple."

"It won't be."

Nodding, Maddie exhaled. "I'm sure it won't. They seem determined not to get along."

To her surprise, Clockwork smiled slightly. "Give them time. They say it heals all wounds."

"Sometimes _they_ are wrong."

"Not this time." He glanced at a clock. How he knew which one to look at, Maddie wasn't certain; each one seemed set to a different time. "You should go. Family dinner tonight, if I'm not mistaken."

Maddie nodded again. "Yeah. And...thanks." His words, vague as they were, had comforted her in a way she couldn't explain. She started for the door.

"Madeline."

She turned back. "Yes?"

"Don't play Monopoly tonight. Elijah and Daniel aren't ready."

Maddie paused, thinking that over. An image of Danny on his feet, eyes glowing, with Papa reaching for his collar, popped into her head. Her eyes widened. "Oh. Yeah, I can see how that could get ugly."

Clockwork smiled again. "Maybe in a few weeks."

"Maybe." She headed down the stairs, wondering briefly how Clockwork had known she was planning on breaking out the Monopoly board. Then again, the Master of Time probably knew everything.


	13. Chapter 13

"You shouldn't have let her in, Clockwork."

"Oh?" Clockwork remained focused on the frame, though he raised an eyebrow sardonically. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Intervening with the affairs of ghosts is one thing," the other said. "Intervening with humans is quite another."

"She is Daniel's mother. Elijah's daughter. You could say _she_ is already intervening." He watched Daniel duck Jasmine's kick, then stand and deliver a punch to her chest. It hit the thick foam armor with a loud _smack_. He didn't phase when she landed an uppercut. The boy fought fair.

"Yes, but was telling her everything about the situation wise?"

"I merely informed her of her role."

"What you told her was deliberately frightening!"

Clockwork looked up. "The situation is frightening. I left out some of the more grusome details, although I'm certain Madeline could stand them." He turned back to the frame, but a hand spun him around. The Observant's eye met his.

"Clockwork, we are more aware than anyone of how...vital Madeline is to the outcome. But allowing her knowledge of our role-"

"Hinted at her role in bringing about a desirable outcome." Clockwork brushed the hand away. "She needed to know her purpose." Almost on impulse, he glanced at the thermos tucked away in a corner of a shelf, nearly obscured by various odds and ends. Hidden in plain sight. "She didn't need to know all the details."

* * *

"Danny! Jazz! Hurry and get changed! He'll be here any minute!"

Panting a little, Jazz halted before throwing her next punch. She caught Danny's eye, nodded, and pulled back. They bowed to each other, ending the sparring match, and ran up the stairs to their rooms. Jazz changed out of her gi and into a pair of khaki shorts and a turquoise blouse, put in a pair of hoop earrings, and clattered down the stairs to help Jack with dinner's final touches. She swept into the kitchen, loaded her arms with several bowls of condiments, and carried them to the table. Jack glanced at the doorway.

"Where's Danny?"

"I'm right here."

"Great." Jack seemed unperterbed by Danny's sudden appearance in the kitchen. "Danny, why don't you head out back and check on those hamburgers." Danny slipped through the back door, and Jack caught Jazz's arm. "How's he doing?"

"Seems to be doing okay," Jazz whispered back. "I figured sparring a bit would help him get out any latent hostility, if you know what I mean."

Jack nodded. "Good. I guess we'll see if it works," he finished with a sigh.

"Especially before the Monopoly tournament tonight."

"We're not playing Monopoly."

"Oh? Why not?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know. Your mom came back from the Ghost Zone and decided we're not playing Monopoly."

"Hm." Jazz couldn't say she was disappointed; Monopoly had never been her favorite game. "Come to think of it, a game of Monopoly could get ugly fast, considering...you know."

Jack nodded as Danny stepped through the door, grabbed a plate and a spatula, and headed back outside. "Table looks okay?"

"Looks fine, Dad."

Just then, Maddie's voice came from the basement: "We're here!"

"Upstairs, Mad!" Jack set a plate of lettuce, pickles and onions on the table, caught Jazz's eye, and winked. _Let's just have fun with this. _

Jazz winked back. _Can do. _

* * *

As the only grandchild at the table without a vendetta, the burden of conversation with Walker fell on Jazz. She didn't mind. Anything to keep the peace, she reasoned.

"So what're you goin' to school for, Jazz?"

Jazz swallowed. "Psychology."

"Really?" He looked impressed.

She nodded. "I'd really love to be a counselor. Work with disadvantaged kids- you know, in foster care, inner city, that sort of thing."

"You like your classes?"

Jazz shrugged. "Well enough, I guess. School's school, but the ones in psychology are interesting."

"She's doing _great_," Maddie put in. "Made the dean's list last quarter."

Jazz beamed as Walker applauded quietly. Out of the corner of her eye, she looked at Danny. He sat quietly, taking bite after giant bite. It was a tactic Jazz herself had used when she knew she was about to get in trouble with Mom. Keeping her mouth full hadn't exactly helped, but it did make her feel safer for a minute or so.

Conversation followed along the same dull lines: school, work, the weather. Nothing memorable one way or the other. It wasn't until Walker left and Jazz helped clear the table that she realized Danny hadn't said a word.

* * *

_Sorry for the short chapter. Guess there wasn't much to say, really..._


	14. Chapter 14

_"He usually takes his lunch break around twelve-thirty. Surprise him one day." _

Maddie glanced at the clock. Twelve-fifteen. Perfect. That gave her fifteen minutes to search for the right door, and enough incentive to search quickly. She pulled the hood over her head, climbed into the Speeder and tossed a bazooka onto the passenger seat. She steered the Speeder through the portal and began scanning the horizon for the right door. Ember's door floated past. As she turned to read the writing on it, a loud _thud _made her slam on the brakes. A green-skinned ghost grinned at her through the windshield.

Thinking it might be an accident, Maddie waved an apology and put the Speeder in reverse. Another something smacked into the bumper, and two more ghosts grinned through the rear windshield.

Maddie rolled her eyes, grabbed the bazooka and stepped out of the Speeder, locking the door behind her. Putting on her most diplomatic smile, she held the bazooka by her side. "Is there a problem?"

"We were just wondering what brings a hunter here."

Maddie laughed. "I'm not hunting anything. See?" She set the bazooka on top of the Speeder and put her hands in the air. "Now, if you'll just let me move on-"

"Where to?" The green-skinned leader had his arms folded across his chest, and the smile had vanished. The other two mimicked his stance.

She blinked. "I'm...I'm just going to the prison. My papa runs it."

They laughed derisively. "_Walker_? Your _father_? That's good, I'll give you that. But just talking like him won't sell it." At the leader's nod, the ghost on Maddie's right took the bazooka from the Speeder's roof and tossed it aside. "So tell me- what _really_ brings you here?"

Maddie saw his hand coming for her throat, but didn't have time to duck it. Instead she brought her left arm up, fist clenched, and hit his forearm with hers, turning as she did. She felt his hold break abruptly and aimed her fist at his stomach. He doubled over, hands clutching his torso.

"Get her!" he wheezed, and Maddie saw faint glints of metal. One withdrew a pistol; the other brandished a knife.

Blowing a lock of hair from her face, Maddie went after the one with the pistol first. A quick roundhouse kick knocked the pistol from his hand; he fired as it went flying. She spun away from the other's knife, grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward, snatching the knife as it fell.

By now the leader had recovered enough to scramble toward the gun, and the other did the same. Maddie pulled the third ghost up enough to drive her boot into his ribcage and send him flying backward. Tossing the knife into her right hand, she threw it at the other two, more as a distraction than anything else. It flew past the gun and careened out into space, but still made the two ghosts jump in surprise. Their eyes widened as the sound of police sirens approached, and they scrambled to their feet. No sooner had they tried to run than a van stopped nearby and four officers piled out.

Maddie instinctively ducked as green jets flew overhead. She straightened and saw one ghost still fleeing and two in what appeared to be bright green handcuffs. Walker stepped out of a patrol car.

"Assaulting my daughter," he growled. "That's against every rule there is." He turned to Maddie, his expression changing from prison warden to concerned father in an instant. "You all right?"

Maddie nodded, brushing her hair back with a gloved hand. "I was wondering when you'd get here."

* * *

Ten minutes later, they were all back at the prison- in different areas, naturally. Maddie leaned against the office door with a sigh.

"So what brings you here, Maddie?"

Maddie laughed, more to relieve tension than any other reason. "I thought I'd surprise you for lunch."

Walker raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm surprised, all right." He shook his head. "I gotta tell ya, those punks picked the wrong girl to pick on. When I get my hands on 'em..." He trailed off, clenching a fist.

"I'm fine, though."

"You sure?"

Maddie shrugged. "They were ameteurs. They would've had trouble facing a yellow belt."

"Doubt that."

She smiled, though her tone was serious. "Don't go too hard on them, Papa. I've dated worse."

"You _have_?"

Maddie laughed and put her arms around him. "Don't worry, I did the same thing to them that I did to those guys back there." She kissed his cheek. "Now, let's forget about that. Isn't it almost time for lunch?"


	15. Chapter 15

In life, both ghostly and otherwise, there were important lessons to be learned. 'Never fry bacon with your shirt off' was one of them. 'Sea lions are not harmless just because they don't have arms or legs' was another. Not that Garret had learned either of those lessons the hard way, though they would have made for a more interesting response when his buddies asked "So what got you here, anyway?" Up until this moment, Garret had prided himself on learning from- and laughing at- the mistakes of others.

Today, however, he had learned a very important lesson on his own: Running from Walker was difficult. Running from Walker because you accidentally assaulted his daughter was impossible and only a very stupid man would try it.

Evidently, Garret was that very stupid man.

He ducked through several doors without bothering to see where they led, then stopped to get his bearings. He had no idea where he was or where he was going- which counted as a positive because that meant the cops didn't, either. At this point, his options were down to two: Go on the run until Walker forgets why he's chasing you (not likely) or you're caught (very likely); or find a portal into the human world and find a nice old building to haunt, in which case Phantom would probably find him.

Where was he, anyway?

Garret looked around. Being in a gang had its advantages, one of which was travel. After ten years in the Ghost Zone and seven in Tom's gang, he thought he had seen the Ghost Zone's most spectacular sights.

This one proved him wrong.

The door he had come through was stone; he felt it now that the adrenaline was wearing off. Wispy green clouds floated by in a strange sort of mist, creating a thin haze around a distant tower. He glanced back at the door, and his urge to leave was gone in the same instant it came. In a place this weird, it would be criminal to not have a look around.

* * *

Garret crept over to the tower and edged his way around, looking for a back door. But the only entrance seemed to be in front, and only idiots or people with nothing to hide went in through the front. Garret could name a laundry list of reasons for not simply knocking and going inside, but they all boiled down to the same item: There was a seventy-five percent chance the ghost inside would send him back to Walker.

As he inched his way around the tower, a peculiar sensation came over him. One minute he felt like he was back in school, like time had slowed to a crawl and there was no escape; the next, it was like summer vacation, where every hour feels like a minute and there was no getting those minutes back. And by the time he stepped back from the tower, Garret had no idea _when_ it was. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe he had stayed so long that Walker had moved on and everyone in the Ghost Zone had forgotten about him.

Or maybe he was just crazy.

Running his fingers through his hair, Garret took another look around. Doors appeared through the mist, hundreds of them floating at all levels. Garret could only stare. With all these doors, it'd be impossible for the cops to find him. He could choose one at random, walk through and simply start a new life far away from Walker. Years could pass before Walker even discovered which door he'd taken.

Only an idiot would pass up this opportunity.

He hesitated only a moment before flying up to a cluster of doors. The first few he dismissed as being too easy to find: too burned, too fancy, too red. He passed over glass doors and doors that reminded him uncomfortably of prison cells, finally choosing a plain white one. He stepped through, closing it behind him.

* * *

Satisfied the door was closed and he hadn't been seen, Garret turned around. As with every other location in the Ghost Zone, it was dark with a faint glow that seemed to emanate from everything. A figure floated in the distance, and as Garret approached...nah, it couldn't be- no, that was impossible...

He raised his hand in greeting. "Tom? What're you doing here?"

Tom flew over, grinning from ear to ear. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"I found this place- it's got all these doors...I thought Walker got you?"

"He did."

"So...why are you here?"

Tom laughed. "You're in the future!"

"I'm in...the future."

"Yeah! See, it's all part of the plan. You're in the future where you've already gone back and done what you had to do to get Mike and I out, and now that I'm here, I tell you what it is, you go back and do it, and we can get rid of Walker once and for all! You up for it?"

Garret took a moment to let all that sink in. It made about as much sense as everything else he'd seen, and if this Tom had already escaped, then he must know what he was talking about. "What do I need to do?"


	16. Chapter 16

_Sorry that the last chapter was kind of confusing. These next few chapters should clear some things up ;) _

_

* * *

_

While he couldn't say he was used to having Walker around, Danny had to admit he was growing accustomed to the weekly family dinners. "About time," Jazz said when he told her. "It's been a month."

"That's only four dinners, Jazz."

"Still. A month is a month." Maddie's loud "We're here!" cut through their conversation, and the siblings hurried to finish setting the table.

Tonight, Danny adopted the same strategy that had carried him through the previous two dinners: Silence. He paid attention to the conversation, nodded or smiled at all the right moments, and even managed eye contact with Walker once or twice. He told himself that he'd just end up asking the wrong question- which was true enough, he reasoned. But the simple truth was that every time he tried to speak, a dozen insults threatened to leap out. If he was going to fire a few zingers, he'd wait until Maddie wasn't around.

Fifteen minutes into the meal, Danny thought he heard a _crash_ somewhere far off. Probably just Dash or another former A-lister running into a telephone pole. Amity Park was a small town, blissfully quiet on summer nights. He shrugged it off and went back to his lasagna.

Five minutes later, another _crash_. This one seemed even closer. Probably just one of the neighbors throwing a dish. They'd been fighting a lot lately.

It wasn't until his ghost sense went off that he was on his feet, shifting into his ghost form.

"Who is it, Danny? Can you see?"

Danny shook his head. "I'll go check it out."

"Take your headset." Maddie retrieved it from the kitchen drawer. "Call us as soon as you can see."

Without another word, Danny put the headset on and flew through the roof, cutting off whatever Walker had to say. Hovering above the rooftops, he threw a quick glance in every direction, searching for the source of the explosions.

Too soon, he spotted it.

Fighting panic, Danny flew closer and tried to get a better look. Maybe it wasn't him. It couldn't be him. The flaming hair, the cape- those could all be coincidences, couldn't they? Ghosts had a very off-putting habit of dressing like morons.

He turned, flashing a grin. Same icy blue skin, same red eyes. Danny paled. It was him, all right.

"Mom! Get the sheild up!" Danny shouted, already doing an about-face toward the house.

"Now? You're still outside- are you sure you can make it?"

"I'll make it, Mom; I'm almost there. Just get the sheild up _now_!" Danny saw the green ghost sheild eclipsing the house and felt rescued already. With a burst of speed, he phased through the front door just as the sheild covered it. He pulled into a front roll, finally landing on his feet inside the kitchen. Danny leaned against the wall, panting.

"Danny, who _was_ that?"

He swallowed a gulp of air. "I...it's...complicated."

Maddie opened her mouth to speak, but a nearby explosion rocked the house, accompanied by a wail that lingered for seconds after the house had stopped shaking. "What the..."

Danny closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall. "He's going for the shield. Trying to break it apart..." The house shook again, this time with a sound like breaking glass.

"He's _breaking_ it?" Maddie turned to Jack. "I thought you said it was at maximum!"

"It is!" Another explosion. More of the hideous crackling sound. Walker got to his feet.

"C'mon, we're gettin' outta here. Maddie, you get everyone in the Speeder and follow me."

Maddie followed him into the basement. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see. Most secure place in the Ghost Zone." The next explosion nearly knocked everyone off their feet. Danny decided it was easier to simply phase through the floor; he fell into the basement just as the rest of the family clattered down the stairs.

"I'll just follow you guys," Danny said. No need for a ghost to take up space in a vehicle meant for humans.

Maddie stopped short, her hand on his shoulder. "Promise me you're not going after this guy alone."

"That wasn't my plan."

She ruffled his hair as though he were still a child. "Sam will be fine. We built that bunker for her, remember?"

"Yeah. I remember." Not that a bunker would stop Dan. It might confuse him for a minute or two, though. At the moment, that was the best he could hope for.

"Okay. Grab the remote for the portal. Once you're through, shut it off. We'll wait up for you."

Danny nodded as the house shook again. "Thanks."

* * *

The plan went off without a hitch- surprising, given the circumstances. _It's okay, Danny, she's in the bunker. She'll be fine for a while,_ he told himself as he grabbed the remote from the counter and dove through the portal. Once immersed in the Ghost Zone's inky blackness, he pressed the OFF button. The mass of swirling green vanished. He would check on Sam later, when Maddie could be convinced it was safe to do so.

"Good job, Danny," Maddie said over his headset. He saw her smile at him through the Speeder's window. He waved, then turned his attention to Walker, who motioned them to follow.

"Tell 'em it ain't far," he said.

"He says it's not far," Danny repeated. But now that Dan's immediate threat was gone, his old distrust of Walker had begun to grow again. What if this was all a trick?

No, Danny chided himself, that wasn't possible. Walker didn't even know about Dan.

Did he?

Pushing those thoughts aside, Danny flew beside the Speeder. "Where are we headed?"

For once, Walker looked apprehensive. "I...look, don't fault me for thinkin' of this, but it's the most secure spot I know of. And I should know. I've made sure of it." He flew to a cluster of doors, choosing a badly burned door with a bright red X. Danny's sign was gone, but the crudely drawn face with X's for eyes remained. The door to the prison. Walker held it open. "After you, I guess."

Danny stopped in his tracks. "Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me."

* * *

_Yes, that was Dark Danny. Hope it was clear enough. _

_And as for how he escaped...well, I'll explain that soon. I just couldn't figure out how to work it into this chapter without infodumping, so I didn't. :P_


	17. Chapter 17

After listening to the ghost sheild shatter like a stained-glass window, Danny expected the prison to be just as bad off. But the white walls were undisturbed, the barbed wire fences unbroken. For whatever reason, Dan hadn't bothered with the prison.

Danny stayed by the Speeder, but Walker turned, motioned him to follow, and continued on his course. "Danny!" Maddie hissed through his earpiece when he rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, Mom," he muttered.

"Follow your grandpa."

"I am, I am." He didn't try to catch up with him, only meeting him when they both landed on the front steps. Walker motioned a guard over.

"Grab three coats and take 'em out to the Speeder, then bring everyone inside. Make sure the Speeder's where no one can see it from the outside."

Well, there went Danny's theory as to why Walker wanted him. He didn't speak as Walker set off down the hall, concentrating instead on keeping up with the brisk pace he set. It seemed every second brought another guard or aide bearing another report.

"No escapees?" Walker asked the first one he saw.

"Not from here."

"Where from, then?"

"That van carrying the community service convicts," a second guard said, joining them. "Last we heard, an extremely powerful ghost stopped it en route. We lost contact with the driver after that."

"Those two punks who assaulted Maddie?"

"Gone, sir."

Walker sighed. "Figured. What else?"

"He went almost immediately to Amity Park."

"Where'd he find the portal?"

"We don't know, sir."

"All right." He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his thinning hair. "Fine. Let me know what else comes up. I wanna know what happens _when_ it happens."

"Yes, sir." The two guards hurried off, and Walker motioned Danny into his office. "Sit down."

Danny sat.

The warden took a pencil from his desk and a notepad from a drawer, then leaned back, frowning. "You seem to know a lot 'bout this guy. That's why you ran, ain't it?"

"Yeah." Danny wasn't sure where this was headed, but he didn't like the possibilities. "Why?"

"You are gonna tell me everything you know about him and how you know it. And the sooner you start talkin', the sooner we can get this guy taken care of."

* * *

Jazz pulled her coat close and fastened the wooden toggles as she hurried down the hall. Maddie and Jack had sent her on ahead, staying behind to see if the Speeder had picked up any useful information from Amity Park. All the guards she'd spoken to had directed her to Walker's office. She nearly ran toward it, her fear pushing her to walk faster.

Almost too quickly, she reached it. Jazz stopped, considered knocking and decided to walk through the door instead. Walker stopped writing, his pencil still hovering above the notepad. Danny stopped talking midsentence and looked at her. "Oh, sorry. I'll just go..."

"You know anything 'bout that ghost we saw back there?" Walker asked.

Jazz shook her head. "I don't. Sorry."

Walker was quiet for a long moment. "Get your mother," he finally said. "She needs to hear this."

* * *

By the time Danny finished his explanation, Maddie was pacing the legnth of Walker's office. "So let me get this straight. This ghost is _you_, ten years in the future."

"_A _future. Not the one I picked, obviously. And it's ten years from when I was fourteen, so six years from now."

Maddie ignored the edge in his tone. "He's you and Vlad, mixed together after you saw everyone you cared about get killed in a condiment explosion and decided it was a good idea to have _Vlad Masters_, of all people, rip out your ghost half and let it run wild."

"That wasn't _exactly _the plan-"

"And you waited until _now_, when he's loose and everyone we know is in danger, to tell me?"

"Well, what was I supposed to say, Mom? 'Hey, Mom, didn't want to worry you, but there's this ghost named Clockwork and he has an evil version of me trapped in a thermos'? 'Hey, Mom, don't ground me or anything, but I cheated on my CAT in an alternate timeline and accidentally screwed the world over, but Clockwork reset everything so it's all good'? I didn't even know he _could _get out until now."

"Just about everything has a chance of happening," Walker said. "You can't assume it won't just 'cause it ain't likely."

Danny exhaled, raking gloved fingers through his white hair. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't think it would ever be a problem."

"Well, yeah," Jazz said. "Considering he can't even go that route, what with Vlad gone. And he _passed _his CAT."

Leave it to Jazz to defend her little brother. "You're not in trouble, Danny," Maddie sighed. "But you _are_ going to help us fix this."

Danny nodded, looking away.

Maddie glanced at Walker. "So what do we know about this ghost? What can he do?"

Walker sniffed, leaning forward with his notes. "What _can't_ he do? He can teleport, create a portal either way- in or out of the Ghost Zone- has that wail we saw, duplicate himself...let's just say he can do it all."

"Great. So...what do _we _do?"

Walker scooted his chair back and stood. "You four are stayin' here. I'll fix a couple rooms away from all the cons."

Maddie could sense Danny's disdain for the idea. "It's the safest place we know of," she told him. "And it's only temporary." She watched him carefully, but he said nothing. After a minute or two, he nodded wearily and got to his feet.

"Dan is probably out of the way by now. I need to see if Sam and Tucker are okay."

Maddie looked at Jack, who nodded. "Check the Speeder's radar before you head out. Come to think of it, I'll go with you. Give you some backup."

"I'll send a couple guards with you," Walker added.

She half-expected Danny to put up a fight, saying _he_ was the one who needed to face Dan, nobody else. Instead he nodded. "Thanks. Both of you." He walked out the door, Jack close behind. When the door finally clicked shut, Maddie sank into a chair and put her head in her hands.


	18. Chapter 18

When the Speeder finally landed outside the portal, Jack was amazed there was still a portal to come through. The house was still standing, but shattered beakers and burned walls attested to Dan's arrival and departure.

"At least the portal's still here," Jack said, trying to sound cheery.

"He knew we'd come back." Danny's voice was quiet, almost hoarse. "That's why he left the portal. He wanted us to come back."

Jack put a hand on Danny's shoulder. "Should we head back?"

Danny shook his head. "No, I...I have to see." He broke free and flew through the ceiling; Jack took the stairs. The kitchen and living room were in equally bad shape: burned walls, burned carpet, shattered glass. The kitchen window lay in shards over the sink and floor. Sunlight and smoke filtered through a brand-new hole in the living room wall.

Outside, remnants of the ghost sheild were scattered over the sidewalk and lawn. Several houses nearby sported broken windows, burn marks and holes, but more distant homes were nearly untouched. Shaking his head, Jack ran to the mailbox. It felt odd to be checking the mail when half of Amity Park was probably destroyed, but Jazz had nearly begged him to do it.

"C'mon, Dad, let's head over to Tucker's." Danny wiped his eyes with the back of his glove. Jack grabbed the small package and closed the mailbox with a bang, then motioned for the two guards to follow.

* * *

Although the frame of Tucker's house still stood, the home itself was gone. A pile of charred rubble was all that remained. Jack stood, rooted to the sidewalk, while Danny vanished into the rubble. Never mind Danny's story about alternate timelines and merging with Vlad's ghost half. Whoever this ghost was, it was most certainly _not_ his son. Jack knew that much like he knew his own name.

After a long moment, Danny emerged from the rubble. "I didn't find Tucker's PDA, so he might've gotten to the bunker." Jack nodded. Tucker Foley never left the house without his PDA.

"What about his parents?"

"I didn't see them, either."

"Let's get to Sam's, then."

* * *

The once-stately Manson home was also gone, frame and all. Danny's green eyes widened, and for a moment Jack thought he might burst into tears. Instead he dove into the rubble, just as he had at Tucker's, leaving Jack stranded on the sidewalk. Five minutes later he emerged.

"I'm taking you down there with me, Dad," Danny said, grabbing his hand. "The bunker's still intact, but I can't remember the code."

Jack set the package down and closed his eyes, feeling but not watching the descent into the rubble. He'd opened his eyes once before, when Danny pulled him underground to avoid a ghost attack, and there really wasn't much to look at. Jack had no desire to see the dark remains of the Manson home slip past him as he phased through them.

Finally, they stopped. Jack knew they had reached the sub-basement level even before he looked around. By the dim green light of his son's ghost ray, he saw rocks, more rocks, a dirt floor...and a glint of metal. Even at this close range he saw several dents- probably from the home's collapse- and he prayed their oxygen supply hadn't been depleted. One hour wouldn't do it, but maybe their tanks had been damaged.

"Move that light a little closer, son." Danny stepped closer, bathing the keypad in an eerie green glow. Jack blew away the dust and entered the code. The lock slid out of place, and the door opened a crack. Jack threw it open the rest of the way and stepped inside the bunker.

The first thing he saw was Sam, lying on the floor, eyes closed. He knelt down and felt her neck for a pulse. It pounded beneath his fingers.

"She's alive." He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he released it. "You brought the smelling salts?"

"Yeah." Danny reached into his pocket and withdrew the small brown bottle. Jack poured a few into his palm and held them to Sam's nose. She winced, coughed and opened her eyes.

"Where...what happened? Jack? Danny? What're you...?"

Danny knelt down and pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhh. It's okay, Sam. We're here now. You're safe." Jack heard his voice tremble.

"What happened?" Her eyes went wide. "That ghost...is he...?"

"He's gone, Sam. For now." Danny stood, offering Sam his hand. "Are the others all right?"

"I...I don't know."

Jack and Danny quickly checked pulses for Tucker, his parents and Sam's parents. All were simply unconcious. Jack turned to Danny. "Head outside and have those two guards- what were their names again?"

"I didn't ask."

"Go get them and have them help you get this bunker outside. I'd rather revive them out there than thirty feet underground."

* * *

Once everyone was awake, the first guard- Jack had found his name was Asher- pressed a button on his radio. "All clear, Walker. Everyone we came for is alive and well."

"All right. Get whatever supplies you can and bring 'em back here for now," Walker's voice replied.

Tucker stared at the radio in awe. "Woah...you get reception out here?"

"Of course we do. What kind of crummy radio doesn't work in a parallel dimension?"

"_His _crummy radio, evidently," Sam said.

"Wait, wait, wait," Danny said, waving his hands. "We're not taking them back to the prison, are we?"

"Prison?" Pamela Manson frowned at Jack. "What is he talking about?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Asher said.

"It's the safest place we know of," the second guard, James, added. "Walker's made sure of it."

"Yeah." Danny rolled his eyes. "So I've heard."


	19. Chapter 19

Huddled in her winter coat, Jazz was waiting on the prison steps when the Speeder entered the gates. Danny appeared beside it, Sam and Tucker in tow. She waved, but only Jack waved back from the Speeder's pilot seat.

"How was it?" she asked Danny when he landed.

"Weird," he said, hand on the back of his neck. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, but he only went after our house and Sam and Tucker's. Our house was still standing." He turned wide green eyes on her. "I-I think he's toying with me."

Jazz fought for something to say to that, but everything she thought of seemed hollow. She nodded instead; not the most appropriate reaction, perhaps, but the best one she could think of.

The Speeder landed then, whipping her hair around her face. She turned as the doors swung open and Jack stepped out. "Did you get it?"

"Did I get...oh! Right here." Jack took a small package from the seat and handed it to her, then helped the Mansons and the Foleys out of the Speeder. Jazz watched for a minute, then motioned for Danny, Sam and Tucker to follow. "I'll show you where we're staying."

* * *

With Dan on the loose, the entire prison had been put in lockdown, meaning no one left the main complex without written permission and a very good reason. "Mom and Dad have carte blanche to go pretty much wherever they want," Jazz explained as they walked.

"And carte blanche is..." Tucker said.

"Blank check. Unrestricted authority to whatever they deem necessary. I think you have it, too, Danny."

"Really? That's surprising."

Jazz rolled her eyes. "Well, you _do_ know Dan better than the rest of us. And I'm pretty sure Grandpa figures Mom and Dad will keep you from doing anything stupid."

"So he's _Grandpa_ now?"

She sighed. "Let's not get into this right now. Here." She stopped by a white metal door and shifted the package to her other hand so she could rummage through her pocket. Withdrawing a key, she handed it to Danny. "This is just in case. All of our rooms are converted guards' quarters, so we're not supposed to let any of the prisoners get hold of the keys. Not that they're master keys or anything, but Grandpa's paranoid about that sort of thing. Keep it on you at all times."

"What about me?" Tucker wanted to know. "Don't I get one?"

"You're human. You can just walk through the door."

"Oh right!" He grinned. "Almost forgot about that."

"Sam, I'll have the key to our room. Again, you and I can just walk through the door, but he thought a key would be a good idea. Our room is this way." She left Danny and Tucker and led Sam down the hall a ways, to a nearly identical door. They stepped through into a small room with iron bunks on either side. A tiny, barred window gave a limited view of the dark sky beyond.

"It's tiny," Sam said.

"It's better than a converted cell."

Sam shrugged a response and sank onto one of the bunks. "Walker sure is being nice to Danny. I mean, considering it's a future version of him causing all the trouble."

"Tell you the truth, I think it's Mom." Jazz took a small square of fabric and tossed it over a recently installed curtain rod over the window. The dim light vanished, but the spot of red made the room look cheerier. "I think he wants to get on his long-lost daughter's good side. I mean, wouldn't you?"

"For sure." She glanced at the package on Jazz's bunk. "What's that?"

"That? Gramma Laurie's diary from when she first met Grandpa. I asked her what she knew about him, and she said she'd mail it to me. Hand me those pictures and thumbtacks, would you?"

Sam looked around, finally spotting a pile of pictures on the floor, held down by a box of thumbtacks. She handed both to Jazz. "What're they of?"

"The pictures? Who knows, who cares?" She skewered a postcard with a thumbtack and stuck it into the wall. A neon green beach chair, sitting on bright yellow sand with a green ocean in the background, appeared on the wall. "Anything to make this less like prison is good in my book."

* * *

_Sorry for the short chapter..._


	20. Chapter 20

When the last picture had been pinned to the wall, Jazz was surprised to see that twenty minutes had passed. Time had flown.

"Looks better in here," Sam said, looking around. "If you don't look too close."

She was right. The pictures were a random assortment Jazz had found in various places: postcards abandoned on end tables, advertisements torn out of old magazines, illustrations from last year's calendar. A purple seal glowed faintly as it sunned itself; elsewhere, Desiree's seductive smile announced her new business, What You Want, Inc. "Maybe we should take that one down."

Sam shrugged. "It takes up space."

"Yeah, but I heard one of the guards saying Grandpa's always complaining about it. How it's a scam and he can't do anything to stop it because it's still technically legit."

"Eh, it's up to you." She crossed to the door. "I think I'll go find Danny. He in his room?"

"I dunno. You could check."

"I will." She walked through the door without opening it. Jazz took the small cardboard box from the floor and slit the tape with the file on a pair of fingernail clippers. She lifted the journal from the box and brushed the tissue paper aside, letting it fall to the floor. Tracing the pressed flowers glued to the front with her finger, she sat down on her bunk, opened to the yellowed pages, and began reading.

_August 23, 1962 _

_Well, it's over. The move, I mean. There wasn't much to report, all told. I sat in the front seat of Mother's car with all my clothes and things in the back, staring out the window as the landscape passed me by. We arrived, she helped Grandma and me unload, and then she left. Went back to California, just like that. Grandma tried to hide her feelings behind a smile when she saw me, but I saw them anyway. Pity. Sorrow. Dismay. _

_The more I see of the neighborhood, the more I feel like I'm in a foreign country. Everything is slower here: the traffic, the pace of people as they stroll down the sidewalk, even the way people talk. There are so many words Mother never used that are common here ("ya'll" comes to mind. And I seriously doubt "ain't" is considered improper grammar in Mississippi). Grandma gave me a glass of iced tea when I came, and it was so sweet I almost gagged at the first sip. It tasted good once I got used to it. _

_It's still the same America, I can tell. And I don't hate it at all. I just know it won't be the same._

_

* * *

_

Danny wasn't in his room. Tucker just shrugged when Sam asked where he went, so she set off down the hall alone. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Sure, Tucker." She heard what he didn't say: Danny is on edge, so watch out. He just might take your head off. And Sam could see why. Danny was back in prison, on the run from a powerful, evil version of himself. That he was on the other side of the bars didn't matter. A prison was a prison, no matter which part of it you occupied.

She avoided walking through walls where she could, afraid she would wander into the mens' bathroom by mistake. But after several wrong turns put her in a place she didn't recognize, Sam decided to retrace her steps the quick way. She held her breath and stepped through the nearest wall, then opened her eyes. Three concrete walls, the fourth of metal bars. A pale-skinned man with a black goatee and wire-rimmed glasses scrambled to his feet when he saw her, letting loose a scream.

"What're- who are- how'd you get in here?"

"I...uh...I'm human. Sorry." Sam took a step backward, but the ghost sprang forward, catching her arm.

"You walked through that wall, didn't you?"

"I don't see how else I would have gotten in."

His eyes widened. "You don't think you could get _me _back through, do you?"

She tore her arm free. "I don't think I could pass my human-ness onto you, if that's what you mean."

"Even for a minute?"

"I don't think that's how it works."

The ghost swore to himself and sank onto his bunk again. "Stupid. The guards here are jerks." He winced and slapped himself lightly on the cheek. "Wish I could stop _rhyming_, but no..."

Realization struck her with the force of a physical blow. "You! You're the Ghostwriter!"

He rolled his eyes. "At your service."

Sam shook a finger at him as she spoke, her words coming in a torrent. "Danny told me about you. He ruined your book, so you destroyed Christmas, Hanukkah _and _Kwanzaa through a poem!" She laughed. "And I thought he was crazy."

"Danny...Phantom, you mean."

"He's my boyfriend." Sam knew she'd said the wrong thing when Ghostwriter got to his feet, eyes blazing. "Hey, hey, hey," she said, holding her hands up in surrender. "No hard feelings. Destroying three holidays at once while rhyming is pretty impressive, if you ask me."

"Did he learn his lesson?"

"He's not in line to be the next Santa Clause, but he's not a total Scrooge."

Ghostwriter smiled. "Good. My little excursion into prison was worth it, then." He leaned against the bunk, arms folded. "So what is your boyfriend in for this time?"

"He's not...that is..." She exhaled. News traveled fast in prison. "He's Walker's grandson."

Ghostwriter laughed long and hard. "No, really. What is he in for?"

"Just what I said. He's the warden's grandson."

"I'll believe that when I see _proof_."

Sam rolled her eyes and headed for the wall. "Yeah. Nice to meet you, too."


	21. Chapter 21

It took Maddie and Jack a grand total of ten minutes to get their room in order; twenty to convince the Mansons and the Foleys it was okay to calm down.

"Screaming about it won't change anything," Maddie told Pamela. "Trust me, this is the safest place on Earth right now."

"And the creepiest."

"Hang some curtains. I'll help you scrounge up some pictures to help make this place a bit more homey."

"_Homey_?" Jeremy Manson slammed a pillow onto his bunk. Not very satisfying, but slamming a pillow was better than nothing. "And just how long do you plan to keep us here, Madeline?"

"Nobody's keeping you anywhere," Jack said. "You can leave any time you like. But these walls are the only things keeping _him_ out."

Pamela sank onto her bunk, hugging her middle. Maddie could tell she was about to say something when there was a knock at the door. "I got it," Maddie said, turning. In a room this small, the door wasn't far no matter where you stood. Seeing who it was, she stepped out into the hall. "Papa? What're you doing here? What's wrong?"

He felt the back of his neck in a Danny-like gesture. "Phantom- er, Danny's- left. Gone back to Amity, I guess."

Maddie leaned against the wall, praying she wouldn't phase through. "So? I thought you gave him permission."

"I did. I was just hopin' you'd follow him."

"Why? He can handle himself."

"You saw what that ghost did. I just think he needs backup."

For an instant, Maddie nearly agreed. Then she remembered what Danny had told her after that first disastrous dinner. Backup was the least of his concerns. "I disagree. Danny has done this sort of thing for four years, Papa. He knows enough to get out of there if things get ugly." She saw his reluctance and changed tactics. "Look. I didn't ask you for carte blanche for Danny so you could skirt around it at every turn. And I am _not _going to help you treat him like a child!"

"I'm not treatin' him like a child! I'm trying to keep him safe!"

"He can protect himself, Papa. I'm sure he took his headset."

"A headset won't do much."

Maddie exhaled. "I'm not going. Neither is Jack. If you want someone to keep an eye on him, send a guard. But we both know what _that_ will do."

Walker stared at her. She touched his arm, tone softening.

"Just let him go, Papa. He knows what he's doing." _Trust him. Just this once. _

_

* * *

_

Danny emerged from the portal to find the lab still intact. Most of the weapons were still there, save for a few guns that had vanished without a trace. Had Dan taken them? Destroyed them in the street to make a point? Granted, it had been less than an hour since he'd returned to the Ghost Zone, but Dan could do a surprising amount of damage in just ten-

"Freeze, ghost!"

Danny whirled, hands in the air. A red-clad figure stood on the stairs, aiming a bazooka at his heart. "Valerie?"

"Danny?" She pulled back her mask and came forward, lowering her bazooka. "Thank God! I thought you'd left."

He shook his head. "Just for a minute. I came back to get Sam and Tucker, but-"

"What I don't get is why you ran in the first place. We all thought you'd stay and beat the tar outta that guy."

Danny sighed, feeling the back of his neck. "You mean you _saw_ that? Me running and all?"

"Half the town saw it, Danny."

He was quiet for a long moment, staring at the floor. "I couldn't beat him, Val. I knew he'd kill me...so I ran."

Valerie raised an eyebrow. "You knew he'd kill you...so you ran. It's just that simple, is it?" She jumped ahead before Danny could. "You've fought worse, Danny. Me, Plasmius, that Undergrowth guy...hell, you saved _two_ worlds from an _asteroid_! One measly ghost shouldn't scare you."

"He's not measly," Danny snapped. "He's..." He sighed again. "Look, it's kind of complicated, but let me just say that the last time I fought him, I only won not because_ I _cheated, but because someone else cheated for me. He's the most powerful ghost I've ever fought, Val." Danny jumped through the ceiling without another word, but Valerie followed him on the stairs.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. The entire town has just spent the last hour wondering why you vanished right when we needed you, and I've been left alone to clean up the mess."

"Sorry." His glance took in the destroyed kitchen, the ransacked living room, the shattered picture frames lying against the walls. "He hasn't come back, has he?"

"No." Valerie led him out the back door. "I've kept looking, but he just vanished." She looked at him. "Where have _you_ been?"

"The Ghost Zone."

"Where in the Ghost Zone?" When he didn't answer, she relaxed her posture. "Look, I don't mean to sound defensive or anything, but I don't think the Ghost Zone would be any safer than Amity right now."

Danny stared at the toe of his boot as it scuffed the lawn. "The prison is."

"You're hiding in the _prison_."

"It's secure."

Valerie put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. She waited until he looked at her. "Walker didn't arrest you again, did he?"

"If he had, I wouldn't be here talking to you, would I?"

"Then...how'd you convince him to let you in, let alone _out_?"

"Hiding there was his idea." He started walking, but Valerie stopped him again.

"Danny, there's something else going on. What is it?"

Danny sighed, staring at the sidewalk. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

"Well, I just found out a couple weeks ago...but he's my grandpa." He looked up, expecting her green eyes to be wide in disbelief. Instead, he saw she was trying valiantly to bite back a smile. "It's not funny, Val!"

She bit down harder as her smile widened.

"Really, it's not funny!"

Valerie threw her head back and laughed. Danny shot her a glare, then stormed off. "Oh, come on, Danny," she said, catching up with him a moment later. Her eyes still sparkled. "It can't be _that _bad."

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who'll have to spend Thanksgiving with him."

She covered her mouth with her hand, and Danny knew she was trying not to laugh again. He glared, and she managed to hold it in. "Okay, okay. I promise I won't laugh again, on one condition."

"And that is?"

Valerie broke into a grin. "You invite me over for Thanksgiving dinner."

Danny stomped off as her laughter rang through the empty street.


	22. Chapter 22

Once Danny had left the burned-out area around his house, he took to the sky. Valerie followed at a short distance.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Valerie finally said.

"For what?"

"Laughing." Danny could hear the smile in her tone, and it irked him. "Even though it _is_ pretty hilarious."

Danny rolled his eyes, then halted midair, squinting at a church just ahead. "You see that?"

Valerie pulled to a stop beside him. "See what?"

"There's something in that church over there- see? It moved."

She moved closer, and Danny knew she was viewing the church through her ghost tracking lens. "It's a ghost. Right in there." She turned to him. "It's not the same one as earlier, in case that's what you were worried about."

Danny shook his head and flew toward the church, Valerie on his heels. He phased through a stained-glass portrait of Jesus and the woman at the well, landing beside a row of pews as Valerie blasted the lock and pushed the doors open. Holding a finger to his lips, he tried to catch a glimpse of a ghost through the musty, multicolored dimness.

"There!" Valerie called as his ghost sense went off. He flew to where she pointed, seeing the faint outline of a human shape as he neared. Danny saw just enough to pounce, tackling him to the ground. The ghost cried out as he fell, reappearing when Valerie shoved the barrel of a gun in his face. Danny pulled back just enough to pin his arms to his back.

"You've got ten seconds to tell us who you are and what you're doing here, or the pastor'll be picking up little pieces of you on Saturday night."

"Val..."

"What?"

Danny sighed. "Never mind." Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Valerie's sometimes rough tactics had their place. Maybe this was one of them. He applied a little pressure to the ghost's arms, making him wince. "Just tell us what you're doing here, and she won't have to chance hitting _me_."

"Garret," the ghost said through gritted teeth. "I'm just trying to get away."

Valerie crouched so she could look Garret in the eye. "Get away from _what_?"

Garret met her gaze, and she glanced at Danny. He had the uneasy feeling he already knew.

* * *

"So you're tellin' me this wasn't your idea at all."

"Not technically, no."

"Even though _you're_ the one who pulled it off."

"It wasn't me, Walker. I swear."

"You _swear_." The warden stopped pacing, palms on the table. "So none of this is your fault, is it? Even though you're the one who broke into Clockwork's lair and got the thermos, even though you're the one who let that psychopath free, you're not to blame. You're just some lowly grunt followin' orders."

"Yes! I mean, no." Garret strained back, chains rattling slightly. He sighed. "Look, I don't know what you want me to tell you."

He jumped when Walker banged his fist on the table. "I want answers! I want to know what _you_ know!"

"I don't know anything!"

For a minute it looked as though Walker would do more than pound the table- turn it over, maybe? Garret braced for a crash, but Walker drew back, clasped his hands behind his back, and paced again. "Fine. You wanna play that game, we can play as long as you want. But I don't have all day. I _will_ learn what you know." He strode through the door without another word. Before Garret could relax, voices penetrated the thick concrete walls.

He sat very still, but the voices were too low for him to distinguish any words. Walker's drawl, though indistinct, was easy to hear. It started out low, then rose to a growl. A woman's voice hummed something, and Walker snapped a response. Garret heard the sound of metal scraping metal.

A knife being sharpened?

The woman's voice rose in volume, but remained calm. It dropped again, and the metal crashed against something that echoed. When Walker spoke, his voice sounded tired. Resigned to whatever this woman had told him. Garret was still praying fervently that her suggestion was in his favor when the door opened a crack. A short-haired woman's shadow fell across the floor. When she came closer, Garret swore under his breath.

She pulled up a chair and turned it around, straddling it. "Hi. My name's Maddie. I think we've met once before?"

"Look, tell your dad I don't know anything."

Maddie smiled wearily. "Now, we both know that isn't true. I think you know quite a bit, Garret, and the sooner you share that information with me, the sooner we can get rid of this ghost you were running from. You know who I mean."

Garret nodded, looking away. Maddie reached across the table and tipped his chin until she caught his gaze.

"Tell me, Garret. Tell me what you know."

His eyes smarted, but he blinked it back. He wouldn't cry in front of Walker's daughter. "You can't stop him. You...you can't. No matter what I tell you, it won't make any difference."

"Just start at the beginning." Maddie took her hand back and gripped the back of the chair. "How did you manage to get past Clockwork?"

* * *

"Well?"

Maddie emerged from the interrogation room, closing the door quietly. "Time travel, pure and simple. He wandered through a door that took him a few days into the future. Tom- the leader of that particular gang- told him how he managed to break free, and Garret took his word for it." She sighed, gazing through the one-way mirror. From this side, she could see Garret, chained hand and foot to the chair, head bowed.

"And it never occured to them that they were settin' a psychopath free?"

"None of them knew. Garret saw a very near future. Just a half-hour or so after his friends escaped would be my guess."

"All right." She heard him sigh. "I'll get a warrant out for those other two. Tom and that other one. Mike."

"I don't think you'll find them."

"Why not?"

Maddie turned. "He killed them, Papa. He killed Tom, at least. Garret was the only one with the sense to flee before Dan noticed him."

Walker exhaled slowly, swearing. "They really had no idea, did they?"

"I asked Garret what made him think it was a good idea, and he burst into tears."

Walker was quiet for a long moment. "Go tell Jack, the kids, everyone else to stay put. Nobody leaves without my permission."

"Papa, I-"

"Don't argue with me!" His sharp tone made her step back. "I'm not lettin' you out there with that monster on the loose. You'll stay here, where it's safe."

Maddie nodded and turned away without another word.


	23. Chapter 23

"What? No, I won't be able to come into work tomorrow. Not that I won't, but I _can't_. Why not? Um..." Danny's glance took in the concrete walls, the high ceiling, the barred window. "Maybe because a psychopath is trying to kill me? Look, it's a long story, but I've seen him before. I know it was me he was after and..." He got to his feet, a sure sign the conversation was trying his patience. "I didn't fight him when he first showed up because he's _crazy_. Powerful, too. You think I wouldn't know that?"

Tucker caught Danny's glance and quickly looked away. Easygoing as he could be when everything was hunky-dory, Danny's temper could easily make him lash out at whoever happened to be standing nearby. Tucker knew enough to not get caught in the crossfire.

"Sir, I need you to find someone to sub for me tomorrow. I _know_ how this looks. I _know_ Bridget had to drive a half-hour to get there, and I'm sorry. But if that ghost knew I worked there, you wouldn't have a restaurant to run anymore!" Danny sighed. "No, I don't want to lose my job. But you've let me leave work for this kind of emergency before; I don't see why you're not letting me do it now." He paused. "I can't exactly leave where I am without written permission, and it would be pretty hard to get it at this point. We're sort of on lockdown. No, it wouldn't be impossible, exactly..." Another pause, this one twice as long. "Fine. If you don't see him by the time my shift starts tomorrow, I'll be there." Danny slid his cell phone shut and flopped onto his bunk with a sigh. "You'd think they'd have the sense to _close _during a ghost attack, but _no..._."

"They still want you to come in?"

"Yeah." Danny sighed again. "I was supposed to work the lunch shift today, but now that Grandpa has the whole place on lockdown, that isn't going to happen."

Tucker noticed that Danny only referred to Walker as Grandpa sarcastically. He decided to let it pass. "Couldn't you just ask for permission to leave? Go to work and then come back? You _are_ his grandson, after all."

His answer was a derisive snort.

Tucker shrugged. "Let him fire you, then. I know at least three places off the top of my head that would kill to have Danny Phantom on their payroll."

He rolled over, elbow bent, head resting on his hand. "Yeah?"

"That club downtown, for one."

"I thought they didn't hire under twenty-one?"

"Eighteen." Tucker grinned. "Everyone wants a bouncer that can walk through walls."

Before Danny could respond, a knock sounded at the door. "Yeah?" Danny called.

"It's me." Jazz.

"I'm closer," Tucker said as he got to his feet. "You need something?"

Jazz stepped inside, her arms wrapped around an old-looking book. She peeled them off and held it out to Danny. "Go on," she said when he didn't take it.

"What is it?"

"It's Gramma Laurie's diary from when she was in college to a few weeks after Grandpa died. You should read it."

"Why?"

Jazz sighed, hand on her hip. Even Tucker noticed how much she looked like Maddie when she did that. "Because we're all stuck here for at least the next few days, and Mom is only going to train us for an hour at a time. Between that and meals, you don't have anything better to do than mope in your room. You may as well learn about the guy keeping us here."

Danny stared at her.

"Oh, come on, Danny. I know you don't want to talk to him, but can't you at least bring yourself to read about him? Figure out why Gramma married him in the first place? Aren't you _curious_?"

He regarded her suspiciously for another minute, then sat up and took the diary. Jazz sat next to him and flipped it open, marking certain pages as she sifted through them.

"You don't need to read all of it, I think. Just the first few pages to...here...then here to about...here...then up to here...oh, and don't forget the article. That's important."

"I'm sure it is."

"Stop being sarcastic. You just don't want to stop hating him, that's all."

One look from Danny, and Tucker knew Jazz had said the wrong thing. He drew back as Danny leapt to his feet. "He threw me in _prison_, Jazz! He ruined my reputation, he kidnapped my friends, he tried to torture Sam-"

"That was years ago, Danny. Things are different." She stood, her face a mask of calm. "Read it, Danny. I'll ask you about it later."

"And if I haven't?"

She smiled. "Mom and I will think of something." She vanished through the door without another word.

For several long minutes, Danny did nothing but stare at the book in his hands. Had it been open, Tucker might have thought he was reading it. "You okay, dude?"

"I'm fine." He exhaled, dropping the book onto his bunk as he headed for the door.

"Where you going?"

"I dunno. Somewhere." He let the door close behind him.

* * *

The more Danny wandered, the more depressed he became. Exploring a prison you had never visited was disconcerting; exploring a prison where you had once been incarcerated was nerve-wracking on an ordinary day. Today, it just made him angry.

_"You just don't want to stop hating him_..." He'd walked these walls before. Those sorry-looking ghosts in prison stripes? He'd _been_ one of them. Of course the others could move on. They didn't even know Walker. All they saw was the pretty face he put on for his newfound family.

_"You don't want to stop hating him..." _He had a right, didn't he? A guy threatens to torture your girlfriend because he feels like it, you're allowed to hate him. Grandpa or not.

_"You don't want to stop..." _

With a muted growl, Danny turned on his heel and marched back to his room. He shifted into his human form, walked through the door, and shifted back, expecting to see Tucker on the other bunk.

The room was empty.

_All the better, _Danny thought, flopping onto his bunk. If he was going to break down and read the stupid diary, he'd rather do it alone. He picked up the diary and held it, tracing the outline of a pressed daisy. Gramma Laurie's entire life as Mrs. Elijah Walker was in here, in her own words. What she thought of him, why she married him, and, perhaps most importantly, how she'd felt after he died.

Gramma Laurie, Mrs. Elijah Walker.

His grandmother had married Walker.

He'd always known she was a little insane.

Giving a bleak laugh, Danny opened to the first page and read the first few entries. Fairly routine stuff about moving to Meridian from San Diego, how the South differed from the West Coast, enrolling in college, chatting with her grandparents. Danny skipped ahead to the nearest page Jazz had folded for him.

_September 18, 1962 _

_First day of school. Well, first day of post-secondary education, really. My real first day of school was years ago, and let me tell you it was far better than this. _

_Even in September, it's pretty warm out. No change there; southern California is always warm, even in January. So naturally, less is more when it comes to clothes. _Everyone_ in San Diego dresses the way I do, and I do not dress like a hussy, no matter what the stupid teacher said. _

_Yes, she called me a hussy, in front of the entire class. Told me I was creating a "stumbling block" for the young men. I told her that's how everyone dressed where I came from. "It was hot in California, and it's hot here." _

_"I don't care. You will not dress that way in my classroom." _

_I should've gotten mad at her. I should've slammed my books shut and left. But I didn't. I was too taken aback to defend myself. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I'll wear something different tomorrow." _

_"See that you do. Otherwise I shall call the dean and have him enact disciplinary measures." _

_I was so mad I just sat there for the rest of the hour, then stormed out as quickly as I could. I wasn't even watching where I was going until a voice (a guy's voice, naturally) said "Better stop, miss. That wall ain't going nowhere." _

_I stopped up short and, sure enough, I was about to hit a wall. "Thanks," I muttered, then started to go. His hand on my shoulder stopped me. I turned and looked into his face just long enough to get the idea- blond hair, blue eyes- and looked away. I knew my cheeks were probably still bright red and didn't want them any redder. _

_"Professor Hammond?" _

_I shoved a lock of hair from my face. "How'd you guess?" _

_He smiled. "I had her last year. She's a tough one. How'd you get on her bad side, if you don't mind my asking?" _

_"I'd rather not talk about it." _

_"Suit yourself." He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave a lopsided grin. "Just don't run into any more walls, all right? They don't move easy." _

_I was glad when he left. A cute guy witnessing my near-humiliation was bad enough; I'm glad he didn't stick around to see if there was more. _


	24. Chapter 24

Even if he hadn't known the owner, Danny would have suspected this of being Gramma Laurie's diary. Her voice came through, loud and clear, despite having penned the words nearly fifty years ago.

Fifty years. It struck Danny to realize how old this diary was.

_

* * *

_

_September 19, 1962 _

_I dressed appropriately today. Not so much skin showing, no plunging necklines, no short hems. I borrowed a pair of Grandpa's slacks and one of his suit jackets. Once I finished putting all the safety pins in (so I wasn't tripping over my own feet- it took FOREVER) I was covered all the way to my ankles. _

_Grandpa laughed when I told him about Professor Hammond. Grandma showed me the sympathy I wanted at the time, but it was Grandpa who told me the best way to get back at her. Grandma shook her head when I liked the idea. "You two are cut from the same mold," she said. _

_"Laurie needs to break outta that shell," Grandpa said. _

_"Oh, she'll break out, all right. Once she steps out in that getup, there'll be no going back." She slapped a dishrag on the counter. "And what if this teacher takes her to the dean, Larry? What then?" _

_"She's got no grounds." Grandpa winked at me. "Laurie's following her rule. Just not to the letter." _

_I was a bit nervous, stepping onto campus that way. Okay, I was extremely nervous, hot and itchy. All the other girls whispered behind their hands when I stepped out of the car, while the boys did the same. Someone gave a wolf whistle as I passed. I kept my eyes straight ahead, wishing I had chickened out and worn a dress instead. I wouldn't be sweating so much, that's for sure. _

_Professor Sanders' class was first, and you wouldn't believe the looks I got in there. I walked in, and twenty-nine pairs of eyes instantly locked onto me, followed me to my chair, and then turned to Sanders to see what he had to say about it. He raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. _

_The girl in the desk next to mine leaned over. "What's with the suit?" she whispered. _

_"Hammond," I said. I was ready to say more, but I could tell by her wide eyes and slight gasp that no more explanation was needed. _

_"She'll murder you." _

_"I'm following the dress code. There's nothing against suits, is there?" Sanders' loud "A-hem!" interrupted us, so I had to wait until the class ended to hear the rest of it, not to mention her name (Janet). _

_"She won't be happy about that." _

_"Hammond doesn't like much, does she?" _

_Janet shook her head. "No. Not from what I've heard. You're that girl from yesterday, aren't you? The one she called a hussy?" _

_I blushed. "Yeah, that's me." _

_"You got some nerve, dressing that way." I know that sounds mean, but it didn't the way she said it. I could tell she was really impressed. _

_"Yeah, well, hopefully it'll do the trick." I pushed Hammond's door open, heart pounding. Janet put a hand on my shoulder and stood on tiptoe to whisper in my ear. _

_"Good luck!" _

_"Thanks." I walked to my seat, head held high. For a minute or two, Hammond's head was bent over the roll sheet. She glanced up briefly as each student's name was called, her eyes methodically sweeping the classroom. _

_"Parker, Lauren." (I told her yesterday that I liked being called Laurie- just a few seconds before she called me a hussy. I don't expect her to call me anything but Lauren for the rest of the year.) _

_I sat up straight and smiled sweetly. "Present." _

_Hammond looked up. Her eyes bugged out like a frog's, her face turned the color of my hair, and she started breathing hard and fast, like she'd just hefted her bulk up a towering flight of stairs. "Miss Parker, what are you wearing?" _

_"I'm just complying with the dress code, Professor." _

_"Are you?" _

_"There's no rule against suits, is there?" I stood, gesturing to my outfit. "And I'm covered all the way to my ankles." I patted my hair, done up in an old-fashioned bun, so she'd take notice. I could see she did. _

_Hammond came over and pressed both her palms against my desk. "Miss Parker, would you like me to speak to the dean about this?" _

_"Is there a rule against suits, Professor? Because if there is, I will leave class and not return until I'm wearing something that fits the dress code. If not, then I see no reason to not wear a suit to school." I sounded brave (at least I hope I did; my voice didn't tremble or anything) but inside I was shaking. Hammond stared me down for another minute, then turned without another word and picked up her chalk. She squeaked it- a deliberate act, I'm sure- but I knew I'd won that round. _

_I left her class feeling elated. Hammond had nothing against me, I had gotten under her skin without getting in trouble, and several of my classmates waved, grinned or gave me thumbs-up as I left. I smiled, breathing deep of the school smell. It smelled like victory. _

_"Looking sharp." _

_I turned, blood draining from my face. The blond guy from yesterday- the one who had warned me about the wall- stood just behind. "I, uh, thanks." _

_He took a step forward, and I tried not to step back. He was a shade taller than me- which made him pretty tall compared to everyone else. He wasn't smiling, exactly, but he wasn't frowning either. "Let me guess: revenge on Hammond?" _

_"Bingo." _

_"And...what could she have done that would make you wear a suit?" _

_I breathed deeply. The school didn't smell like victory anymore; it smelled like a school. "She said I was dressed...inappropriately. __In this, I am covered all the way to my ankles." _

_He smiled then, a real smile that showed he was impressed. "Doesn't look half bad, either." _

_"Just my way of letting Professor Hammond know I take the dress code _very_ seriously." _

_He laughed, I grinned, and he stuck out his hand. "Name's Elijah, by the way. Elijah Walker." _

_I shook it. "Laurie Parker." I glanced at my watch. "Sorry to cut this short, but my next class is in another building, so if you don't mind...?" _

_"Nope." He backed away, hands in the air, then dropped them to his sides. "See you around?" _

_I was too far away to answer, so I just waved. _

_

* * *

_

Finishing the entry, Danny chuckled. It was Gramma Laurie, all right. The only grandma he knew who learned to surf at fifty-four and beat most of the teenagers he saw.

But Elijah...was that the same Walker? Laughing at a girl who broke the rules and mocked the teacher who insisted she keep them? Laurie must have been pretty when she was young. Jazz was pretty, and she recieved fewer speeding tickets than Danny and Jack combined.

Then again, maybe it was the Ghost Zone. It had a way of changing people for the worse.


	25. Chapter 25

After Laurie met Walker, Danny wasn't sure what to expect of the diary. One voice told him to prepare himself; Laurie would soon fall for the same jerk he'd met four years ago. He'd have to watch through her eyes as she was slowly drawn in by his charisma or wealth or power, then spent the next- he did a quick calculation- fourteen years overcoming her disillusionment.

But the next few entries didn't even hint at deception on Walker's part:

_September 24, 1962 _

_Came back to school after my first weekend of college. It was boring, actually; I spent the entire two days with my grandparents. Sad, I know. I was invited to a party, but didn't go, more because I was afraid of what Grandma and Grandpa would say about it. Since they're the ones letting me live here, rent-free, while Mother figures her life out, I decided getting on their bad side wasn't a good idea. _

_Elijah was waiting for me outside of Hammond's class, as usual. While last week all he did was chat with me for a minute or two before we went our separate ways, today he walked with me to my next class. "I was one of the few students Hammond actually liked, so I figured I'd try my hand at being a bodyguard," he explained. He said it with a grin, but I'm still not sure how much of it was meant as a joke. "She give you any more trouble?" _

_"I haven't given her the chance." _

_We talked until we reached the Science Building, where my math class was. I waved goodbye at the steps, then called as he started to leave, "What time are you off for lunch?" _

_"Eleven-thirty." _

_I nodded and ducked inside. I wish I could say I surprised him later, but when I saw him sitting there with a few of his buddies, I lost my nerve and ate with Janet and her friends instead. _

_September 25, 1962 _

_Lost my nerve again- twice! I thought Elijah had seen me avoid him in the lunchroom yesterday, so I ducked into the crowd straight out of Hammond's class and hid behind fat people so he wouldn't notice. Then I worried that he'd think I was being rude, so I stuck with Janet all the way into the lunchroom and suggested a table far away from Elijah's. I don't know if he was looking for me or not. I didn't watch him that long._

_September 26, 1962 _

_I can't believe Janet noticed my notice of Elijah, but she did. "Are you going to talk to him or not, Laurie?" _

_I shrugged and unwrapped my sandwich, but Janet stopped me halfway through. _

_"Go on, Laur. You've been trying not to let him catch you staring at him for two days." _

_"I can't just walk over there!" _

_She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. You wore your grandpa's suit to school to get back at Hammond. You can talk to a guy." _

_"You've been talking to him for the past week," Susan, one of the girls at our table, said. _

_The other girls started to urge me, so I repacked my lunch, stood, and- _

"Danny? Knock knock..."

"Just a second, Mom!"

_-crossed the floor to where I'd seen him sitting. I saw him when I first walked in, but decided to look around so it wouldn't look like I'd- _

"C'mon, Danny."

_-been watching him the entire time. _

Danny sat up, marked his place and closed the diary. He opened the door before Maddie could walk through. "What is it, Mom?"

"Meet Grandpa at the gate. You need to ID a visitor."

* * *

Danny knew who his visitor was even before he landed just inside the gate. "Dude, that's Ember."

Walker didn't signal the guards to release her. "Might be Dan. She said you'd know if it wasn't."

Ember, hands pinned behind her back, grinned mischeviously. "So how goes it in the gated community, Danny?"

Danny glared. "Let her go. It's her, all right."

The guards released her.

* * *

He waited until they were inside the prison walls to ask the burning question. "So what're you doing here?"

She sighed. "What do you think? This 'Dan,' or whatever his real name is."

Danny went cold. "What did he do this time?"

Ember looked away. "I heard he killed two of those guys who let him out."

"Yeah...And?"

Ember exhaled. "Nobody's seen him since, but I found this." She reached in her pocket and extended a crumpled note. "I'm not sure what it means, but it was addressed to you anyway."

Danny snatched it away and read it quickly.

_Danny dearest, _

_The time has come and gone, but guess what? I'm still here. I'm sure that means something.  
Still don't want to be me? Fine. But this world can only handle one of us.  
I'll let you figure out who that'll be. _

_-Dan _

Silver-green ectoplasm dotted the note. Danny looked up at Ember, certain his face had gone a shade paler.

"Where'd you find this?"

"Just outside your parents' portal." She glanced at the sky, as if scanning it for Dan. "I don't think he knows you're at the prison yet."

"Yeah." Danny wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, feeling suddenly cold. "I...I've gotta go. Thanks, Em."

He took off down the hallway.


	26. Chapter 26

The portal Walker took landed him just inside Amity Park's Sacred Heart Hospital, somewhere in the cardiac ward. Unease wrapped an arm around his shoulder, clinging to him until he made it safely through the wall and onto the street. He glanced at Bullet- no odd look from his right-hand man, but he felt like giving an explanation anyway.

"I hate hospitals," he muttered.

"You'd be hard pressed to find a ghost who doesn't," was the reply.

Walker checked the map Maddie had drawn for him. Not exact, but close enough. "The house ain't far," he said, shoving the map into his pocket. "Let's get there 'fore _he_ does."

* * *

As far as Walker could tell, the house was vacant and unsupervised. Dan didn't seem to be around, but experience told him to be on the lookout. Paranoid, Danny would probably say, and he couldn't disagree. Experience with danger made you paranoid. He followed the stairs to Danny's room first. The note had made Dan's motives clear; Danny's room might offer some clue as to the method.

Walker stepped through the door into a disaster area.

Clothes lay scattered on the floor- some in weeks-old piles, if the smell was any indication. The bed was unmade, a laptop resting on the pillow. A stack of schoolbooks sat beside the door, a reciept from the college bookstore on top. CDs and CD cases covered the top of Danny's dresser, his iPod headphones a twisted mess on his nightstand. An empty ice cream bowl threatened mold.

Walker swore under his breath. "Can't believe he's _my_ grandson," he muttered.

"What was that, sir?"

"Nothing. Go...check the lab."

* * *

"Just relax, Danny. He hasn't found you yet."

"Yeah. Yet." Danny slammed his foot into the punching bag. "It makes sense, doesn't it? God, why didn't I _see_ it?" Two punches rocked the bag.

"Well, you're safe here, aren't you?" Jazz's side kick tipped the bag, but it didn't fall. "And now that everyone knows you're the warden's grandson, you don't have to worry about getting into a fight on accident or anything."

Danny halted mid-kick. "Say that again?"

Jazz's elbow smacked the punching bag. "Well, Sam ran into the Ghostwriter yesterday, they got to talking, he asked what you were in for, and...well..."

"Great. This is just great."

"Oh, come on. What's wrong with them knowing?"

"Jazz! Any street cred I had with the ghosts in here is gone! Stupid Ghostwriter..." His kick knocked the bag to the floor, and Jazz calmly righted it.

"Since when have you cared about earning street cred with convicts?"

"Since...since...since we started staying here."

"Right." She strode from the room, knowing Danny wouldn't stay there alone. Sure enough, he left a moment later. Jazz smiled to herself. Maybe he'd finish the diary by the end of the week.

* * *

_October 5, 1962 _

_Eli saw the inside of my school bag today. I didn't have one of those measuring things on me, but I'm pretty sure his blood pressure spiked. _

_I wanted to give him my grandparents' phone number (here's hoping he'll call!) but all the paper and pencils I had on me were in my school bag. I opened it and rummaged through crumpled assignments and heavy books. _

_"That how you organize everything?" _

_I looked up, smiling a bit self-conciously. "It works for me." _

_"How?" _

_"It's like an archaelogical dig. See? All the old stuff is toward the back, while all the new stuff is toward the front. I've got pencils over here...and here...oh! Here's that notebook!" I produced a notebook and pencil triumphantly. When I looked up, Eli had a look of horror on his face. _

_"I'm surprised you get your assignments in on time." _

_"Hey, at least I'm not one of _those_ people. You know, the kind that organizes their closets in the order of what they'll wear that week?" I sighed. "You're one of them, aren't you?" _

_"How else would I organize my closet?" _

_I bit my tongue. I hadn't the heart to tell him the vast majority of humankind doesn't even _think _about organizing their closets._

_

* * *

_

It started as a simple fact-finding mission: Search the house for any evidence that might lead to more information on Dan's MO. 'Know thy enemy' and so forth. Twenty minutes later, it had evolved into a fact-finding mission with a distinct, though unstated, goal: Study Danny's room for clues to his personality.

Walker didn't mention this goal. Had he been asked, he would have denied it. But the evidence scattered around the small space proved too fascinating to resist. Besides, if Dan was Danny's future, it stood to reason that his past- Danny's present- would be the best place to start learning about him.

Pictures covered the walls, between posters of rock bands and space shuttles. Walker studied these first: Danny with Sam at a school dance. Danny and Tucker asleep, hugging each other on the floor. Danny between Sam and Tucker, his arms around both. Ghost Danny, holding a thermos while Tucker stared at his PDA. Halloween night, with Danny as an astronaut, Sam as a vampire and Tucker as a robot. Walker smiled faintly at the last one. Dressing to fit their personalities. Danny as Clark Kent and Sam as Lois Lane would have been more fitting, he thought.

Roughly half of the CDs on Danny's dresser were without cases, but the artists told him all he needed to know. Storehouse 17, Death to Strangers, Dumpty Humpty...all fairly popular acts. Walker nodded appreciatively. He wasn't one of those smug little twits who only listened to underground stuff. How Danny and Ember ever got along, he'd never know.

"Walker?"

Walker didn't turn from the CD shelf. "What is it, Bullet?"

"The lab appeared mostly untouched, but I found this note by the weapons closet."

"Bring it here."

_Danny, _

_I suppose you're not wondering why I've left you this fantastic store of weapons. I suppose I can forgive you. You haven't reached my level of intelligence yet.  
You think your parents can save you? Your sister? Those numbskulls you call friends? We'll see.  
You want me, come and get me. _

_Your friend, _

_Dan _

Walker's eyes narrowed as he finished. "So he wants a game of hide-and-seek, does he?"

"That seems to be the case."

"Arrogant bastard," he muttered under his breath, shoving the note into his pocket. "Best be gettin' back. Maddie'll want to know what we found."


	27. Chapter 27

Danny lay on his bunk, holding Gramma Laurie's diary over his head. Laurie's story proved the perfect distraction; it kept him from thoughts of being locked in ghost jail with tightened security while hiding from a sadistic killer. When he thought of it, the reality of his situation was downright depressing. What was worse, Ember had given everyone else a new euphemism for "prison." Now Danny was certain he would never be able to live in a gated community.

Tucker joined him occasionally, but spent more time outside the small room. Danny didn't blame him. Between reading and complaining, Danny knew he wasn't stellar company. But the more he read, the more he wanted to see how the story turned out. Gramma Laurie took him by the hand and introduced him to a Walker he wouldn't have imagined- one he wished he could meet.

_

* * *

_

November 2, 1962

_Eli came over for dinner tonight. I think he passed the test, and I say it's only fair; Grandma had been pestering me to bring him over for two weeks. If he had failed...well, I'm not sure what I would have done, but it wouldn't have been pleasant, you can be sure of that. (Okay, maybe I wouldn't have done anything at all. But that's beside the point.) _

_Grandma and Grandpa were polite and everything, but I could tell they were the tiniest bit suspicious of him. I guess they have a right, given who their daughter married. They asked the typical questions, and for the first time I can think of, it was one of those run-of-the-mill, small talk-type questions that told them everything they needed to know. _

_"So what're you going to school for?" he asked as we sat on the back porch, sipping lemonade. It's getting chilly, but it's still warm enough to be outside this time of year._

_"Police Science," Eli answered. "I plan on going into law enforcement." _

_Grandpa relaxed at that, though he tried not to let it show. I glanced at the kitchen window and saw Grandma listening in. A smile flickered across her face before she turned away. I could almost hear what she was thinking: "Oh, he's almost a cop. Thank God." _

_December 25, 1962 _

_I guess Eli and I have been getting along so well, our families decided to spend a couple hours of Christmas Day together. Or at least, that's what Grandma and Grandpa told me. I'm pretty sure it's because Mr. and Mrs. Walker are certain I'll show my true colors before too long- whatever those are. (I thought that's what I _was _showing them, but maybe I'm wrong.)_

_Anyway, it all seemed to go smoothly. At least, as smoothly as it could go, what with Mrs. Walker's pointed glances in my direction and Mr. Walker's sharp little probing questions: "Your parents aren't coming to visit? What's keeping your mother over the holidays? She working or not? Where is your father, come to think of it?" I answered all of them politely (I do, after all, want him to like me) but inside I was brimming with snappy little comebacks: "No, they're not coming to visit. My father is an axe murderer with a tattoo where he sits, and my mother is his accomplice, you see. They're quite busy over the holidays, killing joy and anything else that moves. As far as work goes, they can't exactly send me money every month, considering where it comes from." _

_I know, I know. I'm a horrible person sometimes. To my credit, I didn't actually say any of those things aloud. _

_After dinner, his sister and I ended up washing dishes. Neither of us minded; it gave us something to do besides sit around and wait until we could stomach dessert. And it gave us a chance to talk. _

_"Have your parents said anything about me, Rach?" I whispered this so no one could hear. Fortunately, the clink of dishes drowned out most of what we said, and the door muffled the rest. _

_She rubbed a plate with a dishtowel and set it on the shelf. "No, not really. But you have to cut them a little slack." She lowered her voice. "Elijah doesn't have the greatest track record with choosing girlfriends." _

_Now here was something. "Oh?" _

_Rachel nodded. "His first, back in high school- she was round as a basketball and not much smarter, if you get my meaning. Almost drove Mama to tears. She finally had to tell Eli he was not to mix our blood with someone who had the IQ of a Pekinese. And none of us talk about Sharon much." _

_"Why not?" _

_"Well, you remember the Cuban Missile Crisis back in October." _

_I nodded. How do you forget something like that?_

_"When us and the Soviets were at each other's throats and the world was holding its breath because we all thought we were gonna die in a massive explosion that would trigger World War III? That's what it was like every time Sharon came over." _

_I laughed. "That bad?" _

_"It was awful. And you know, I love my brother. I think he's a great guy and I know the world would be a better place if there were more people like him. But when he finds a girl who's just like him, the last thing he should do is date her, much less marry her." _

_"Were they that serious?" _

_Rachel waved the question away. "Nah. They only dated for a month or two." She laughed. "I think that's all they could handle of each other." _

_I laughed too. "I guess I'm in good shape, then, if I haven't made your mother cry yet." _

_"I don't think you will." I saw she was serious. "Just keep at it, and you'll have them eating out of your hand in no time." _

* * *

"How far are you?"

Danny nearly dropped the book when he saw Jazz sitting at the foot of his bed. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I wasn't sneaking. I just came in and thought I'd see how far you were. You made it to the first Christmas yet?"

"February, 1963. Got past Christmas a while ago."

"Keep reading. It gets better." She smiled. "There's lots of reasons Gramma Laurie married him."

Danny nodded and kept reading.

* * *

_March 10, 1963 _

_Elijah graduates this year. He's already getting a job lined up with the county police department; I guess they prefer officers with college degrees. _

_He's really passionate about the whole police thing. Some of my friends back home might say this is a bad thing- it makes cops more likely to do stupid stuff, less likely to listen to what ordinary people have to say, etc.- but it doesn't seem bad, the way Eli models it. He put it this way: "There are a lot of bad people out there, Laur. If there's a call for help, I don't intend to ignore it. Being an officer will let me answer it on the right side of the law." _

_"You sound like Superman," I teased, and he laughed. But I could tell he meant every word. _


	28. Chapter 28

"Come on, Maddie, pick up the phone." Lauren Walker listened until the ringing gave way to Maddie's sweet voice prompting her: "Hi there, you've reached the Fentons! Jack, Maddie, Jazz and Danny. We're not available to take your call right now, so leave a message and we'll get right back to you."

"Unless you're a reporter," Danny's voice cut in. "In that case, I've probably already talked to you, and I'm kinda busy this summer, so...yeah."

"What Danny's _trying_ to say," Jazz said, "is that if you're a reporter, you should just give up now. It's all old hat, so...bye!"

Five times she listened to the voicemail before hanging up and slamming the phone on the counter. _Come on, Laur, what did you expect? She dodges your calls for a month, evades your questions about the simplest things, then vanishes into thin air. She was bound to do something odd like that sooner or later, so why not now? _

Why _not _now? Half of Amity Park was rubble, according to the latest news. The Fenton ghost sheild had shattered. Even Danny Phantom had fled. And if her grandson ran from a fight, things must be bad, indeed.

Laurie opened several kitchen drawers before she remembered which one the address book was in, then had to unearth a mound of papers to find the book. Old envelopes, ancient letters, and notices of every kind tumbled out. She resolved to sort through it all...someday. For now, she had to find her daughter. Laurie found Maddie's cell number, punched it into the phone and listened to the ring, fully expecting to reach her voicemail again.

* * *

"I said it once and I'll say it again: You want someone out in Amity, I'll get the department to send someone. I'll even go. _You_ are stayin' right here, Madeline."

Maddie, face in her hands, exhaled through her fingers. "Look, Papa. I'm not a moron. I've made a _career _out of hunting ghosts like this. So has Jack. Danny's made it a _pastime_, for crying out loud!"

"Most ghosts can't tear through a sheild like that."

She folded her hands on the table. "I feel like we're getting nowhere. How about this: I talk to Danny and see if he's willing to go-"

"Out of the question."

"Then what? We stay here until he destroys everything _but_ the prison?"

"No, I'll send someone else, and they-"

"They can what? Get..." She finished her sentence with a sigh. "You know what, I'll just go. This isn't doing any good, and I'm sick of arguing the same point over and over."

"Maddie..."

"No, never mind." She got up before he could protest and left the office. Walker had just rested his forehead on his desk when a digitized country tune sounded from Maddie's vacant chair. Looking up, he saw her cell phone on the seat. "Musta fell outta her pocket," he said, standing. He picked it up, intending to see who the caller was and give it back to Maddie once it stopped ringing. The caller's name blew that plan to bits.

**Call from: Mom**

Walker processed it in an instant. Mom...Mom meant Maddie's mother, which meant Laurie. "Laurie!" Without further thought, he flipped the phone open.

"Hey, Laurie."

* * *

Laurie silently rejoiced when the ringing stopped before it reached voicemail. She waited for Maddie's greeting, ready to fling the first words of her motherly speech through the phone.

"Hey, Laurie."

Laurie had been sitting at the kitchen table, leaning into a wooden chair, but the familiar voice propelled her to the edge of her seat. "Who is this?"

"It...it's me, Laur. Elijah."

Her mouth hung open, but no words came.

"Are you...okay? What're you doin' right now? I know you called for Maddie, but she left a minute ago, so I thought I'd-"

"Put Maddie on the phone."

"She ain't here. Left just a minute ago..."

There was a moment of silence and the faint sound of footsteps, the man's voice calling for Maddie, and more silence. Laurie took it as a transfer to her daughter. Her previous speech was abandoned in favor of a much more relevant one. "You and your sister have pulled some nasty pranks, Madeline Autumn, but this one takes the cake. Honestly, I thought you'd outgrown this childishness, but apparently I was wrong. Now, I don't know where you found someone who sounds like your father or how you got him to cooperate or how you recognized his voice after all these years, but if it's a lecture you wanted, young lady, then by God it's a lecture you'll-"

"_Lauren_!" Still the man's voice.

Laurie stopped, heat rushing to her cheeks. Served her right for starting a lecture before making sure she was speaking to the right person. "I...I'm sorry you had to hear that, sir; I thought I had my daughter on the phone. Now if you'll just put her on, I can repeat all that to the right-"

"Alicia Rain."

"What?"

"Our oldest daughter. Nastiest fight we ever had was over her name. You liked Rain for a little girl, said it was pretty and earthy and would help her stand out. I said no way in hell we were namin' our daughter after a weather pattern. Told you she'd either grow up to be a burned-out hippie..."

"Or a prostitute," Laurie finished with him. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Is that really you, Eli?"

"It's me, Laur."

She smiled through her tears. "'Cause if it isn't, I'll find whoever's impersonating you and beat the tar out of them."

He laughed. "I've missed you, Laur."

Laurie was crying too hard to answer.


	29. Chapter 29

_Sorry this chapter took a little longer than usual to update. I started researching the 1960s and before I knew it I'd gotten caught up in it all. :) Yay nerdiness! _

_

* * *

_

January 11, 1964

_In one hour, twenty-three minutes, I will be Mrs. Lauren Walker. I feel like...like...gah! I'm so excited I can't even come up with a good simile! Or maybe that's just nerves. Probably a bizarre combination of the two that I never knew could exist until one hour and twenty-two minutes before my wedding. _

_We talked about getting married this summer, but neither of us could wait that long. So that is why I'm here, on the second Saturday of the new year, wishing time would move just a little bit faster so I could actually _do_ something! The way it is, I can't fix my hair or put on my dress or even my makeup because there's still over an hour left and I don't want to risk disaster. _

_I know one thing for certain: It will be weird going back to school on Monday. "So what did you do over the weekend, Laurie?" "Oh, nothing much. I just got married on Saturday. So I'm Laurie Walker now. Like I said, boring weekend." _

_...I just giggled like a psych ward inmate. Is that a bad thing, or is it normal for a bride-to-be? _

_Grandma just said it's normal. Okay, panic gone. _

_ONE HOUR, TWENTY MINUTES! _

_

* * *

_

Laurie had learned from experience that no matter how graphic the news footage might be, it could never compare to seeing it all in person.

Refusing to go any further, the cab driver dropped her off a safe distance from Amity Park. She gave him a hefty tip to settle his nerves, grabbed her suitcase and started walking.

The news clips had shown only a few areas of town hit by this ghost, whoever he was. But it seemed everywhere she looked was his handiwork: a scorched wall here, a broken window there. Plaster dust coated the sidewalk beneath her feet, and she had to pick her way through pieces of rubble and broken glass. A dark spot on the side of a building made her stomach turn. She'd seen enough spots like that to know it wasn't another burn.

"_Psst_. Lady. Over here."

Laurie jumped, then spun in search of the voice. "Over _where_?" she said as loudly as she dared.

"Here." A hand waved, then dropped. She hurried into an alley and ducked behind a dumpster, kneeling beside a blond who leaned against the metal. His right shoulder was sticky with blood, soaking his T-shirt.

Laurie dug through her suitcase until she found the small first aid kit she'd brought. She gently pried his hand from his shoulder, tore the sleeve and began dabbing at the blood with a wad of bandages. The blond winced and tried to pull away, but she held his arm firmly. "How far is the hospital?"

He sucked in a breath. "Not too- ow!- not too far."

"Mind telling me how this happened?" She poured water onto the burn and waited for him to speak.

"It was that ghost- attacked a couple days ago, and then he left? Well, now he's back, and..." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I wasn't even doing nothing. Just walking. He came up in front of me and just...attacked, you know?"

Laurie nodded. Not the most detailed explanation, but she could imagine most of it. "I'm going to finish cleaning this and then I'm taking you to the hospital. Do you think you can walk that far?"

"I...uh..."

"Let me put it another way: Do you think you can walk until I can flag down a car headed in that direction?"

He nodded.

"Okay then. What's your name?"

"Dash."

Laurie recognized the name of Danny's high school bully-turned-white belt. "All right, Dash. I'll help you stand, and then you're going to have to walk with me. Okay?" She draped his good arm around her shoulder and, with a bit of effort, stood. He pointed in the direction of the hospital, and they ducked out of the alley, watching the sky for any sign of the ghost's return.

* * *

_February 25, 1964_

_I know this might sound odd, but I'm worried about Elijah. _

_I've heard accounts of officers in other parts of the South beating protesters, and while I'm one hundred and thirty-four percent certain Eli wouldn't do that, I worry what might happen if things started to get ugly. Would he be ordered into the fray? And if so, how could he stay out of it? I guess he could just hang back, and that's probably what he'd do, but still..._

_Maybe I'm overthinking this. I know Eli would try his hardest to not get involved if things got ugly. He'd probably be the only one trying to stop it. He's already the only one trying to stop all the ugliness in his department. (You should hear his rant about the Klan's influence on the officers. I'm not being sarcastic here; it's really quite inspiring, and I can't see how anyone could still support the KKK after hearing it.) _

_And I just realized that's what terrifies me the most. As far as both of us know, Eli is alone in his convictions. _

_

* * *

_

After dropping Dash off at the hospital, Laurie walked the relatively short distance to her daughter's house. She felt a stab of guilt for leaving an injured and obviously frightened boy like that, but she had to find Maddie. The fact that Elijah was wherever Maddie might be made the entire situation more interesting- and urgent. She pushed aside her shock at the state of the house and entered through a hole in the living room wall.

Downstairs, the lab was much the same as the rest of the house: broken glass, scorched walls, overturned tables. This ghost, whoever he was, had trashed the place carefully, leaving just enough intact to make a point.

The portal, however, was untouched, the ON button within easy reach. Remembering Maddie's warnings about the cold, she hurried back upstairs, grabbed a coat from the closet by the door (one of Jack's, if the comically baggy fit was any clue) and darted back downstairs. She pressed the button, and the portal hummed to life.

Casting one last glance over her shoulder, Laurie took a deep breath and stepped through.

* * *

_I really, _really_ hope my inclusion of the KKK in this story doesn't offend anyone, because that wasn't my intention at all. My research has shown me that the Klan was pretty strong in the South in the 1960s, and Mississippi had a lot of turmoil as a result. Elijah and Laurie's story happens in a place that included the KKK, so the KKK is an important part of their story. That's the _only _reason I'm including them. Again, please don't take offense. I don't want to take any sort of political or scholarly stance through this fic; I just want to tell the story as honestly and as accurately as I can. _


	30. Chapter 30

No sooner had Laurie stepped into the Ghost Zone than red and blue flashes lit the sky. She didn't move as a patrol car pulled up alongside her.

"Lost, ma'am?"

"No, I..." She pressed ahead with the question, ridiculous as it sounded. "I'm looking for my husband, Elijah Walker. Have you seen him?"

The two officers traded glances. "The ghost?"

"He'd be a ghost, yes." Laurie pulled the coat tighter around her shoulders. Her arms felt lost inside the baggy sleeves. "My name is Laurie, if that helps anything. Laurie Walker."

They held a short, whispered conversation; then the driver turned to Laurie again. "Why don't you get in the car, Mrs. Walker."

* * *

_March 6, 1964_

_We had one of Eli's coworkers over for dinner tonight. His name is Jeffrey Barnes, and I dislike him already. On my own personal scale, he ranks just behind bread mold. _

_"I held him off for a month," Elijah said when he told me a "friend" from work was coming over for dinner. "He kept asking where I was hiding 'my pretty little wife,' so I took it as him inviting himself over. Couldn't do much after that." _

_"It'll be fine," I told him. He didn't look so sure. _

_"I'll make it up to you somehow." It took all of ten minutes for me to see what he meant. _

_Jeff was nice enough when he walked through the door: shaking hands, making a comment about how pretty I was...all the usual con artist tactics to get inside your head and make you think he's the best thing since sliced bread when he's really planning to stay in your bathroom and sing Hungarian polka tunes until you have to move to a different city to get away from him. (I shared this comparison with Elijah just now. For once, he didn't say I was being overly dramatic.) _

_"So this is your place, is it?" He stepped inside without being invited. "A tad small, ain't it?" _

_"Big enough," Eli said with a smile. _

_"I'm not so sure about that, you know, you being newlyweds and all." His grin made me blush. I glanced at Elijah and saw his smile was forced. _

_I tore myself away and headed for the kitchen. "I'll go get dinner ready." I had planned to start fixing it much later, giving us time to make Jeff feel welcome, but I suddenly wanted the evening to be over with as soon as possible. _

_Through the open door I heard every word of their conversation. Before long, I was slamming pots and pans, throwing dishrags onto the counter. I knew I needed to calm down before I broke something, but there wasn't much I could do. Closing the door would be rude, dumping a pot of boiling water onto his crotch ruder still. (Three guesses for which one I wanted to do more.) I finished as quickly as I could, set the table and announced dinner was ready. _

_I had to listen to that cretin all through the meal. More vile humor, plenty of infuriating remarks, and his jokes...I won't even write them, they were so offensive. After the first, I had no doubt where he stood on the civil right's debate. Unable to stomach any more, I gathered up the plates, gave Eli an apologetic look (he was the one expected to sit at the table and endure that creep, after all) and headed into the kitchen. _

_I washed the dishes and let Jeff's side of the conversation run through my head until I wanted to smash his head in with a frying pan. I was still working out the details of that plan (our house is a little small, if hiding a body is what you want) when I saw the medicine cabinet above the counter. I remembered Eli's insistance that we keep over-the-counter things like aspirin and whatnot in the kitchen, where they're more accessible- and I had the most brilliant idea I think I've ever had. _

_Kicking the door shut (it was already closed most of the way, but I didn't want it open even a crack), I dashed over to the cabinet and grabbed the bottle of laxatives, then crushed a few with the back of a spoon until I had a small handful. I scooped ice cream into three bowls, sprinkled the crushed laxatives into one and covered it with chocolate sauce. I put brownies in all three bowls, threw some sprinkles on top, washed my hands and wiped the dust off the counter. Fixing a smile on my face (it didn't take much effort now), I carried the three bowls out of the kitchen and set the doctored one in front of Jeff. I don't think he suspected anything. _

_Finally, he belched and said he needed to leave. Elijah carried the rest of the dishes into the kitchen. As we stood side-by-side at the sink, he apologized. _

_"Never thought a man like that'd eat your cooking." _

_I smiled. "I'm sure _he_ never thought it'd go through him so fast." _

_"What do you...?" He spotted the bottle on the counter. "You didn't!" _

_I could only grin. _

_"How much did you give him?" _

_"Oh, just enough to make him leave early, but not so much he'd stink up our bathroom." I glanced at the bottle again. "He might have to pull over, though." _

_Eli laughed so hard he had to prop himself up against the counter. When he looked up, he had tears in his eyes. "You're the sneakiest woman I ever met, Laur," he said. _

* * *

Laurie expected tight security when the patrol car reached the gate. It was a ghost prison, after all. A prison like that would have to be more secure than the average penitentiary.

She wasn't surprised when one officer went inside while the other waited with her. She prepared for his silence, braced herself for identifying questions and planned accordingly. When the officer returned and told her he had orders to take her inside, she smiled. Ah, police talk. Charming, once you'd been married to a cop for a few years.

As she walked down the hall, flanked by the officers, she played over different scenes in her mind. Elijah would see her, and his eyes would light up the way they always did when she sprung a surprise visit on him. He'd pull her into his arms and whisper _"I missed you, Laur,"_ as she cried into his shoulder. They'd talk about what thirty-four years had brought, reminisce about the brief time they'd had together.

She didn't expect to see him standing by the window, frowning as she entered. "You shouldn't have come, Laurie."

"Like hell I shouldn't."

"This is serious, Laur. In case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a _crisis_ here."

Laurie rolled her eyes, leaning on the door so it would close faster. "Honestly, Eli, I hear my long-dead husband's voice on the phone and what do you _think_ I'm going to do? Stay in Meridian and twiddle my thumbs? I thought you knew me better than that."

He turned away. "I hoped I was wrong on that one."

She sighed, coming forward until she was leaning against the wall beside him. "Look at me, Elijah. I haven't seen you in thirty-four years, almost to the day. You _really _think a homicidal maniac is going to keep me from buying the first plane ticket to Ohio and hitching a ride with the first cabbie who isn't too chicken to take me to a parallel dimension?"

He looked alarmed. "The cabbie's here too?"

"No. He dropped me off at the outskirts of town. Lucky for me, Amity Park is a tiny little town."

Elijah was silent for a long moment, staring out the window. He shook his head slowly, but when he looked at her, he smiled slightly. "Why on Earth did I marry such a stubborn, pigheaded woman?"

Laurie smiled. "Because stubborn, pigheaded people are invariably attracted to each other?"

He laughed. Sensing she'd struck the right note, Laurie put her arms around him. He returned the embrace, kissing her so long she hoped he'd never pull away. "You have no idea how much I've missed you, Laurie," he said when they finally did.

Blinking back tears, she kissed him again. "Not half as much as I've missed you."

* * *

For several minutes, Dash kept his eyes closed and let the hospital smells swirl around him. The aromas of overcooked food, bleach and antiseptic tickled his nose and brought a small smile to his lips. He was here, he was cured, and he was safe.

"So who's the lady?"

Dash's eyes snapped open. A gloved hand over his mouth held back a scream. When he could fight it on his own, the hand pulled away. "I...I don't know, dude- er, sir. I-I didn't ask-"

The flaming-haired ghost stepped forward, and Dash instinctively sheilded his body with his good arm.

"I'm sorry! She-she said her name was Laurie! Told me as she was walking me here."

"Laurie _what_?"

"I...I don't..." He took another step, and Dash racked his mind for the name she'd given the receptionist. "Walker, okay? Laurie Walker!"

"Laurie Walker," he repeated, and Dash peeked out from between his fingers. The name had taken him aback, it seemed; he stayed where he was as though turning something over in his mind. "Why was she here?"

"She...didn't say. She didn't tell me, I swear! That's all I know!" He closed his eyes again, resisting the urge to whimper like a four-year-old. But when he opened them, the ghost was smiling. Relaxing a little, he lowered his hand.

"Thank you, Dash," the ghost said, friendly as you please. Then, quick as thought, a bolt of green shot from his palm and buried itself in Dash's arm. "Just a flesh wound," he said above Dash's scream. "A parting gift."

He shot through the roof as two nurses slammed the door open.


	31. Chapter 31

Maddie rounded a corner, Danny in tow, halting midstride when she saw who stood in the hallway. "Mom?"

"Gramma? What're you doing here?"

Laurie smiled, waving her daughter's cell phone. "Hello, Maddie, Danny. I called your cell phone, and guess who answered?"

"I was _wondering_ where I left that." Maddie snatched it away and shoved it into her pocket.

"Fortunately, there was a plane headed for Ohio shortly after I hung up. If _someone_ had told me the truth four weeks ago, I wouldn't have had to bribe the airport staff for a ticket."

Maddie's cheeks flared. It had probably taken Laurie less than half of the three-hour flight to put most of the pieces together: the vague answers, the excuses, the 'missed' phone calls. "What did Dad tell you?"

"He just filled me in on the details of what I saw and heard." Maddie felt Danny shrink back slightly. She could almost hear his thoughts: _Oh, great. Grandma _knows_. _She patted his arm as Laurie continued. "An alternate future of Danny's. Can't say I believe it yet, but I just found out my husband is a ghost. I suppose anything is possible."

"So what are you doing here, Mom?"

Laurie smiled. "Isn't it obvious? I came for the family reunion! A prison may not be scenic, but when a psychopath is running rampant, it's probably the best choice. Now, where are Jack and Jazz?"

She swept past them without waiting for an answer. Maddie and Danny traded glances.

"How much do you think she knows?" Danny whispered.

"Now? I'm not sure. By the end of the day, I think she'll know more than either of us."

* * *

_June 23, 1964_

_I know I shouldn't be surprised. I know something like this was bound to happen sooner or later, but now that it has, I'm still shocked. _

_You know those civil rights workers and demonstrators I've been writing about? The ones that have been coming here in hopes of showing everyone that civil rights are necessary and _won't_ bring the world to an end? Three of them are missing. Their names are (or, maybe by now, were) Michael Schwerner, James Chaney, and Andrew Goodman. Two of them, Schwerner and Goodman, were white. _

_There's no question who did it or why. Chaney was black, Schwerner was Jewish and all three were on the wrong side of the cause, as far as the Klan is concerned. _

_Elijah is livid. Apparently, Neshoba County law enforcement doesn't seem interested in doing much. Everyone wants someone to do something, and so now they're looking to President Johnson to act. As for me, I want to grab a picket sign and start a campaign of my own. _

_June 26, 1964 _

_I woke up from a nightmare (burning crosses again; I've been seeing them a lot) and noticed Eli was gone. I lay awake for a few minutes, thinking he'd gone to the bathroom, but he didn't return. I searched the house, but he was nowhere to be found. _

_It's been half an hour now, and he still hasn't come back. _

_June 26, 1964- Later _

_Asked Elijah about last night. He gave a vague answer, something like "checking on a noise I heard." Don't think I believe you, Eli. You wouldn't leave the house at two in the morning unless you thought there was something more important than sleep. _

_June 27, 1964 _

_More Klan activity lately. It has me jumpy, but Elijah swears up and down we'll be safe. I knew we would even before he told me. We're white. He's Mississippi born and raised. And he's a cop. They only go after the ones who don't have the power to fight back, he said. _

_I woke myself up after midnight again. As I predicted, Eli was gone. He finally returned just after four, tiptoeing in and closing the door so slowly I could have run out and back in in the time it took the door to latch. I heard him change his clothes and hang them in the closet, then crawl into bed with a heavy sigh. I pretended to be asleep the entire time. _

_Dear God, I hope he isn't having an affair. _

_June 27, 1964- Later _

_I didn't let on that I knew Eli had been out last night, but it's bothered me all day. I can't stop thinking about it. I mean, I don't think he'd cheat on me- he never did while we were dating, and we haven't been married all that long. Don't men who have affairs usually wait until they're middle-aged? _

_June 27, 1964- Still later _

_All right, that's it. I can't take this anymore. If it turns out Elijah is cheating on me, I'm not going to wait until it's too late to find out the truth. I'm going to stay up. If Elijah sneaks out again, I'm going to follow him. _

* * *

"So, Danny."

"Yeah, Gramma?"

Laurie hugged her knees to her chest, back against the freezing stone wall. "I saw the door out front. The burn marks, the giant X...you know where that's from?"

Danny felt the back of his neck, looking away. "Er...sort of. Did, uh, did Grandpa tell you anything about that?"

"He told me to ask you."

There was a long, awkward pause. "Look, Gramma, I don't know what Grandpa told you, but we didn't exactly get off on the right foot."

"Hence the door."

"Yeah. And I never said I didn't feel bad about that, I just...never got around to fixing it, you know?"

Laurie watched her grandson fidget beneath her stare. "Why don't you start at the beginning."


	32. Chapter 32

_I originally intended Elijah and Laurie's story to be a slice-of-1964-Southern-life type story, but that's not what it turned into. So bear in mind that this is not supposed to be a "this is what all decent people in the South did back in the 1960s" kind of thing. It's more of a "what if" type of thing. _

_As stated when I first introduced the KKK into this story, please don't get offended. Just enjoy the story. _

_

* * *

_

June 28, 1964

_I kept myself awake long into the night, pretending to be asleep. Not that it was easy; I was already tired from staying up the previous two nights. But I managed, and sure enough, Eli got up around midnight, changed his clothes, and crept out of the bedroom. I waited until I heard the door click shut before getting up, changing into a pair of dark pants and shirt, and following him outside. He unchained his bike from beside the house; I followed on mine. __The farther we went, the jumpier I got. _

_I followed him out of the suburbs, out past the edge of town, out into the hills around Meridian. The hot summer wind carried the scent of woodsmoke; I smelled the fire moments before I saw it. Elijah dismounted, and for a second I thought he'd see me. But he didn't seem to as he walked his bike off the dirt road and set it down neatly. _

_He walked a short distance, then pressed his back against a thick-trunked tree and took a notebook out of his pocket. I found a tree of my own and hid behind that, but instead of watching Elijah, my eyes were drawn to the Klan rally. _

_They stood in a circle, faces masked by their pointed hoods, singing a hymn I've never heard before. A smaller group of children played on the grass nearby, but it wasn't the sight of them that shocked me. Rather, it was the eight-foot flaming cross in the center of the bonfire that held me. Terrible as it was, I couldn't look away. The hooded figures, the flickering shadows, the high, thin voices singing the eerie hymn- if I hadn't felt my heart pounding, I would've thought I'd died and gone to hell. _

_"Psst! Laurie!" Jumping, I tore my attention away and saw Eli looking at me. He frowned and pointed at me, then the Klan, and gave an exaggerated shrug. _

_"I followed you," I mouthed, pointing at him. _

_He rolled his eyes, jerking his thumb toward the road. "Go," he mouthed back. I shook my head, and he did it again. _

_I sank to the ground- slowly, so the Klan wouldn't hear any snapping twigs or rustling grass- and folded my arms over my chest. Catching Elijah's gaze, I cocked an eyebrow defiantly. "Make me," I mouthed. _

_He exhaled, looking back toward the rally. He started scribbling in his notebook, and I watched the rally until Eli "Psst-ed" me again. When he took a step away from the tree, I knew he had decided to go. I got up as quietly as I could and followed him back to the road. _

_We rode the few miles back into town in silence. I stayed almost even with him, feeling his turmoil like I felt the summer humidity. Try as I might, I couldn't come up with a good excuse to give him. Even my real reason for following him sounded flimsy- but I could've still been so jittery from what I'd seen that I couldn't think straight. _

_Too soon, we reached the house. We chained our bikes back up, then slipped into the house. Elijah waited until we were in our bedroom to speak. _

_"Why did you follow me?" _

_I slipped off my shirt, hands still trembling. "You were sneaking out. I wondered what you were up to, so I decided to find out." _

_He said nothing for a long moment, but I resisted the urge to look at him. "You could've been spotted, Laur." _

_"So could you." _

_"That's none of your concern." _

_I spun around. "None of my concern? You're my husband! If you go out and get yourself killed by a gang of raging Klansmen-" _

_"You shouldn't have come, Laurie! That's the end of it." He turned around, pulling on his nightshirt. "If I choose to risk my own safety, that's my business. I won't let you risk yours." _

_"And why not? Isn't that _my_ business?" _

_He stared at me in the dark, and I could see I'd made my point. From there, though, I wasn't quite sure what to say. "So why'd you do it?" I asked. "What were you doing out there?" _

_"Information. I want to learn as much about them as I can." _

_"Why?" He didn't answer. I pulled on my nightgown and repeated the question. "Why do you want to learn about them, Eli?" _

_Silence again. "The Klan's making deals. Getting in with the police all over- and not just in Mississippi. I reckon there's at least one Klansman in every police department across the South, so as a cop..." He sighed, shoulders slumped. "I can't do anything as a cop, Laurie. If I want to stop this insanity, I've got to fly under the radar." _

_I could've told him no. I could've carried on about his safety and my welfare and what his moonlighting as Elijah the Klan Slayer would do to our marriage. Maybe I should've done all those things. But all I said was, "Without me?" _

_He stared at me as if I'd donned a robe and hood myself. _

_"If the Klan is as powerful as you say," I continued, "then one person isn't going to do much against them. Maybe more than I think, but not as much as two." _

_Elijah looked away. "I can't let you, Laur. If something happened to you, I'd-" _

_"And what if something happened to _you_? Did you think of that? If I let you go all vigilante and stay home in the kitchen and you get killed, what do you think _I'd_ do?" _

_He sighed, and for a long moment neither of us spoke. "We should get to bed," he finally told me. "We got church in the morning." _

_I crawled in beside him and pulled the covers over my head. Even after I fell asleep, the image of the Klan rally was still there, etched onto my eyelids. I dreamed of them breaking the circle and surging out into the hills, trampling Eli in their path as I watched. _

_

* * *

_

When Danny finished his story, he rested his head against the wall. "And that's about it."

Laurie nodded, sighing. "If it's any consolation, he admitted to starting this little family feud."

Danny looked at her in surprise. "He did?"

"Yes. He may have changed over the years, but he still has the decency to admit fault." Wisdom to end the fighting, however, still seemed to elude him. Laurie stood, crossing to the door. "You have quite the history."

"Like you said, he started it."

She shook her head. "Stubborn. Just like your grandpa."

Danny looked up sharply, green eyes glowing. "I am _not_ like him."

Laurie smiled sadly. "Deny it all you want, Danny. I'm sure Elijah will, too. But the truth is, you're _exactly_ alike."


	33. Chapter 33

__

_Someone mentioned that the "Elijah the Klan Slayer" was a historically inaccurate reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which didn't come into existence until the 1980s. While that's true, my "Klan Slayer" reference wasn't an intentional reference to Buffy. They had people who slayed things back in the 1960s. They just didn't slay vampires. (That we know of. ;)) _

_

* * *

_

_July 2, 1964 _

I spent three days trying to convince Elijah to let me go with him on his next stakeout. I tried every approach in the book, from cute ("I'll pack the snacks!") to logical ("Do you really want to go without backup?"). I finally dropped it. When he left for work, he "forgot" his notebook on the kitchen counter. I figured that was all the invitation I'd get from him, so I spent the day reading his notes. By the time dinner rolled around, I had learned as much as he knew about the Klan's numbers, proposed tactics and possible targets.

He didn't mention it at all that evening, and I didn't ask. The topic sat there like a big, drooling dog in the center of the table, but neither of us bothered to shoo it away.

Once again, I stayed up until I heard Elijah get up. I waited until he closed the door behind him, then changed quickly, braided my hair and slipped outside. I crept around to the side of the house and found Eli leaning against the wall. He met me as I approached, and even in the dark I could see he was smiling.

"Laurie, you have got to be the stubbornest woman I ever met."

"That's a compliment, right?"

Two rifles were leaning against the wall; he handed one to me. "Shows you've got a brain in that head of yours. I like that."

I took the rifle and kissed his cheek.

* * *

Even before Laurie opened her mouth, Walker knew he wouldn't like what she was about to say. He watched her carefully, and when she stood over his desk, one hand planted on her hip, he braced himself. The posture had always reminded him of a cobra, poised to strike, and this cobra struck like lightning.

Laurie tossed her cinnamon-colored hair over her shoulder- also a bad sign. "You _like _that part of your job?"

He was toast. "I didn't _mean_ it! I was just tryin' to scare him!"

"Elijah, that's like a math teacher showing a middle schooler the electric chair to get him to stop showing up late for class." She sank into a chair and covered her face with her hands. "Dear God, this is even worse than you made it sound."

"Well, it's not like he didn't take the ball and run with it," Walker muttered.

"Can you _blame_ him?" Laurie sighed and looked up. "Does Maddie know?"

"The basics."

"What did Danny tell her?"

"I don't think he told her everything, if that's what you mean."

Laurie nodded, lips pressed together. "And now you have him, his family and his two closest friends locked up in your maximum-security prison, _which_ you keep locked twenty-four hours a day, even to your own family, _who_ would love to get out of here and put an end to this crisis, if you'd only let them."

Walker stood, pointing at the door as though Dan lurked outside. "Have you _seen_ that ghost, Laur? He broke that sheild like glass!"

"Yes, I saw the aftermath. Reminded me of the crime scenes you and I used to visit."

He sat down again. "I took them here 'cause it's safe."

She leaned forward. "And I'm sure they appreciate that, but..." Laurie looked away, as though searching for the words. "Remember when your parents found out? When they discovered what we were doing at all hours of the night? What if they had locked us in the basement? How would you have taken _that_?"

Walker smiled slightly. "Not well, that's for sure."

"My point exactly. You're lucky Danny respects you enough to stay where he is."

Walker looked away.

"You have to stop avoiding him, Eli. All you're doing is making him feel more like a prisoner."

He opened his mouth to protest, but all his defenses fell flat. Instead he asked, "What would I say to him? What _should_ I say?"

Laurie shrugged. "I don't know. Ask him what he likes. Learn about him. And not in a surveillance kind of a way," she added, waving a finger.

"I know, I know."

"Don't roll your eyes at me." She smiled when she said it, and Walker relaxed. "Just go. He should be in the gym now."

* * *

As Laurie had predicted, Walker found Danny in the gym, throwing punches at one of the bags. He delivered an uppercut to the bag, then followed with a roundhouse and another punch. He ducked an imaginary swing, then drove his elbow into the bag.

He had to admit, the kid was good.

"You need something?"

Danny didn't turn around or halt his routine, but Walker came forward anyway. "I, uh..."

Danny stopped. "Yeah?"

Suddenly, it didn't seem like such a good idea. That Danny was even exchanging a few civil words with him was a miracle in and of itself; how could they manage an entire conversation? Feeling close to panic, Walker dug in his pocket, took out his cell phone, and scrolled through until he found the video he wanted.

"I just thought you'd like to see this. Took it a couple years ago." Danny stood at his shoulder, watching the tiny screen. "This is what happens when Plasmius gets drunk."

Danny's green eyes met his. "That's 'I Will Survive,' right?"

Walker nodded, grinning at the memory.

"Not a bad cover, you know, considering the circumstances. How much tequila did he have again?"

"Too much." Walker shook his head. "Those Christmas parties..."

"They get pretty wild?"

He laughed. "You have no idea."

The video ended, and Walker flipped the cell phone shut. "Just thought you'd like to see that."

Danny nodded. "Yeah. It was hilarious." He tilted his head at the punching bag. "I think I'll get back to...that...if you don't mind."

"No, no, not at all." He was already backing away.

"Thanks, by the way. I'll have to show it to Sam and Tucker." As Walker left the gym, he saw Maddie watching from a few feet away. She smiled, and for the first time in three days, it didn't seem strained.

* * *

_Yes, I sort of stole that video thing from a recent oneshot of mine. I just thought it'd fit in this story. _


	34. Chapter 34

Sorry this chapter has been so long in coming. My plot bunny did what my plot bunnies do and ran away just when I thought we were getting somewhere. He was later found in the Czech Republic, dressed as Vlad the Impaler, eating sausages with saurkraut. Now that he has been captured once again, I can continue my story. (If anyone knows of a psychiatrist that specializes in plot bunnies, please let me know. He's starting to worry me just a little.)

* * *

Laurie stepped through a wall, watching for guards. Elijah hadn't forbidden her from roaming the prison, but he hadn't given her permission, either. Silence didn't always mean agreement, but if half of what Danny had told her was true, she needed to uncover more of it, rules be damned.

After a few turns, she found herself in a kitchen, surrounded by metal: a stove large enough for four to cook on; massive pots and pans; a huge grill, tarnished by use.

And ghosts.

Laurie stood her ground beneath the freezing stares, raised her hand and grinned. "Hi there!"

____________

* * *

_February 6, 1965 _

_Jeffrey Barnes has gotten married! _

_I'll write that again: JEFF THE IDIOT BARNES has gotten MARRIED. To a WOMAN. Who, as far as I can tell, has not been brainwashed. _

_She seems sweet, if a little mousy. Okay, a lot mousy. She's so timid that when I congratulated her at the wedding, she barely gripped my hand and looked all around as if searching for an escape route. I hope the poor thing can change that man- either that or get out and get out FAST. _

_Elijah and I were both shocked when the invitation arrived in the mail. Saying he didn't want to go would be an understatement. _

_"I'm not going to support anything that son-of-a-bitch does, and getting married is one of them." _

_"Shouldn't we support her, though?" I checked the invitation and found the bride's name. "Cynthia? Shouldn't we at least warn her about the big bag of crazy she's marrying?" _

_"No, we shouldn't. She knew what she was getting into when she decided to-" _

_I took his hand. "Maybe she didn't. I didn't know everything I signed up for when I married you." He looked hurt, so I plunged ahead. "Girls don't always go into this sort of thing with thier eyes wide open. Why do you think my parents got divorced?" _

_It was a minute before he replied, and I could tell he was thinking it over. "I'm still not gonna support that man." _

_"Then go for Cynthia." I said it as gently as I could. "Maybe I'm wrong about her. Maybe she's the perfect match for Jeff. But I have the feeling that one morning she'll wake up and realize she didn't marry the man she thought she did, and she'll need someone to be there for her." _

_So we went. It was a nice wedding as far as weddings go. I smiled when I was supposed to smile, clapped when I was supposed to clap. Elijah didn't. He sat so perfectly still, arms crossed and jaw set, that he might have been carved from stone. _

* * *

Laurie took in the four ghosts closing in on her, trying to pinpoint the leader. A heavyset woman with green skin and a pink bandanna over her hair stood in front of the others; they clearly deferred to her. Laurie put on her best smile and offered her hand.

"Hi, I'm Laurie. What's your name? Edna? You look like an Edna."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you look like an Edna. So am I right? Are you an Edna?"

She looked taken aback. "I suppose you could call me Edna if you wanted to."

"Or you could call her the Lunch Lady like everyone else," one of the ghosts next to her said.

"I'll call you Edna. I like that better." A cold hand on her shoulder made her jump.

"These ladies bothering you, Mrs. Walker?"

"Mrs. Walker? As in, that Walker?"

Laurie closed her eyes, exhaling slowly.

"Mrs. Walker, you shouldn't be here."

Laurie brushed the guard's hand away. "I'll go where I want, and for now I want to be here."

"But Walker said-"

"He didn't say anything, as far as I heard. Now go. Shoo! I'm here for a good reason, and that reason doesn't include you."

The guard finally backed off, and Laurie turned back to "Edna" and her cohorts. They stared at her in a mixture of awe and fear, as though trying to calculate her next move.

"Like I said, I'm here because I have a question: What can you tell me about my husband?"


	35. Chapter 35

_March 12, 1965 _

_We had the Barneses over for dinner. Saying their name sounds odd and sort of wrong, which seems to fit the evening. (Or maybe that's just the lack of sleep and a few too many swigs of vodka talking. I have a feeling ninety percent of this entry won't make sense when I reread it tomorrow.) _

_Watching the two of them together was like seeing my parents together again, the way they were when I was little. He was obnoxious, rude and overbearing; she was quiet, coy and syrupy. He talked about how happy they were together and she agreed in her kittenish sort of way. Sitting across the table from those two and thinking about my own parents was like watching the beginning stages of a car crash in slow motion. It took all of five minutes before I wanted to scream. _

_As soon as I could, I excused myself and took the salad plates to the kitchen. (I planned a multi-course meal not because it seems fancier than an ordinary one, but because it had moments of escape built right in.) As soon as I set them on the counter, I dashed to the opposite side, opened the cupboard where we keep our liquor and took a swig of vodka. A glass of wine just wouldn't be enough. _

_The meal wore on, and I used it as an opportunity to watch them. Not that I enjoyed the experience, mind you, but Elijah is ninety-nine percent certain Jeff is a Klansman, and any information we can get through him or Cynthia will eventually prove useful. (We're both hoping for the day the police department will finally come to its senses and stop siding with the Klan, but neither of us is optimistic.) As I watched them, saw how they flirt and guessed at the state of their relationship, I learned that Elijah is just as observant about that sort of thing as I am. In this case, it was not a good thing. _

_Let me explain. Jeff clearly wears the pants in their marriage- not just in terms of career, but in terms of everything. Cynthia didn't say much, and when she did, it was to agree with something Jeff said. She disagreed once- I don't remember what about- and he turned to her with this smile on his face. _

_"Cindy, you don't really think that, do you?" He smiled as he said it, but I could tell it wasn't a joke. __The only creature I've seen grin like that is a water moccasin. _

_Cynthia paused, surprised; then she laughed. "Oh, of course not, dear. I was only joking." _

_I glanced at Eli to see if he noticed the same subtext and saw that he did. I could feel his tension, the same tension that comes moments before a midnight shootout. Not fear or anticipation, but anger._

_The next few minutes continued in that same vein. As soon as I could, I grabbed the dishes and excused myself to the kitchen and my trusty bottle of vodka. I remembered Elijah and went to the door. _

_"Elijah, honey, could you come here for a second?" _

_Once he was inside the kitchen, I pulled him out of sight and kissed him. He seemed surprised at first, but then I felt him relax and put his arms around me. _

_"What was that for?" he whispered when we pulled away. _

_"You looked like you were going to kill someone," I whispered back, then smiled. "I needed some way to distract you." _

_"Someone named Jeff? I was considering it." _

_I couldn't tell if he was joking or not, so I decided to treat it like a joke. "Honey, the last thing we need is a murder investigation." _

_He smiled faintly. "Thanks, Laur." _

_I let go of him and handed him the bottle of vodka. "Here. My last link to sanity." _

_He took a swig, then set it on the counter. "Laurie, you're a lifesaver." _

_"Yours or Jeff's?" _

_He didn't answer. "C'mon," he said at last. "I'm sure Jeff's got some fine remark all picked out." _

_

* * *

_

Cynthia Morris half-listened to Stephen Christian's lament of lost causes, no longer wondering if it would fit her class. By the second listen, she had already decided the song would make an excellent, if challenging, solo piece. The nice thing about working for a school so long was that after a while, the principal didn't look over your shoulder. Her students could sing songs by popular artists and, as long as they fit the school's standards of furthering education and enriching lives, the principal wouldn't bat an eye. Well, he might blink a bit when the soloist sang "Wish your drinking would hurry and kill you," but she could handle that.

Couldn't she?

Wish your drinking would hurry and kill you...

Wish your _drinking_ would hurry and_ kill _you...

The song rose in pitch, and Cynthia hit Stop. The song was perfect- challenging, engaging, and suggested by one of her students. But that one line...

She started to dial Laurie's home number, stopped, and dialed her cell instead. Laurie wouldn't answer her home phone, seeing how she wasn't _at_ home. She was...

Come to think of it, Cynthia wasn't certain where her friend was. She'd hopped on a plane and dropped off the radar, so to speak. Oh well. Cynthia would know where she was soon enough.

* * *

"Really? Your _fourth_ stint?"

The Lunch Lady grinned. "That's right, dearie. And I've escaped each and every time."

Laurie didn't have to feign being impressed. "That's pretty...spectacular." She gave a small laugh. "So how long this time?"

Her cell's ringtone cut off Lunch Lady's response. Raising a finger and an apologetic smile, she moved away from the counter to answer it. "Hello?"

"Laurie? It's Cynthia."

Usually, the call would have been a welcome intrusion, but listening to four ghost felons in a prison run by your dead husband was the very definition of a bad time. "Cynthia, can I call you back? This isn't the best time."

"Oh, sorry. Where are you?"

"I'm..." Laurie hesitated. Cynthia had more of a stomach for unusual stories than most people, but would _she_ believe this one?

Laurie was still debating when Elijah appeared in the doorway. Everyone froze, including her.

"Uh, Cynthia? I'll call you back."

* * *

_In case you're wondering, the song Cynthia was listening to is "Fin" by Anberlin. _


	36. Chapter 36

_March 17, 1965_

_Rachel came over today. She just showed up on our front porch as I was making dinner, minutes after Elijah got home from work, and came in the second he opened the door for her. _

_"What's going on, Rach?" _

_"Well," she began. She stood very straight, arms folded, head tilted back just slightly so she could look her brother in the eye. "You know Steven, right? My boyfriend, the one who's an intern at the hospital?" _

_Elijah raised an eyebrow. "There any other boyfriends I should know about?"_

_"No, no, just the one. He told me an interesting story about a Klansman who was picked up by an ambulance, a bullet through his hand and another bullet hole in his robes. Somehow, his hood was missing. I thought of you." _

_"Sorry, I don't see how those two connect." _

_"You know damn well how they connect, Elijah!" She shook a finger at him, inches from his face. "You're the only one who could make those shots and get away unseen and you know it!" _

_He brushed her hand away. "No, I'm not. Last I checked, I wasn't the only man in Meridian who owned a rifle." _

_"No, but you're the only one dumb enough to use it that way." _

_"_Dumb_? You call saving a man's life dumb? _That's_ what it is?" _

_"No, no, it's not dumb." He relaxed just a bit. "But it _is _crazy. You know what those lunatics would've done if they'd seen you?" _

_"Well, they didn't." He started to walk away, but Rachel grabbed his arm. _

_"But they could have. Taking his hood? Elijah, what were you _thinking_?" _

_"I needed to know who he is. Can't do that when he's wearing a hood." _

_"But the others-" _

_I stepped in. "The others had scattered, Rachel. I made sure of it." _

_She looked at me, then Elijah. "She's going with you, too? Elijah-" _

_"I volunteered." _

_"She did," he echoed. "And if Laurie hadn't been there, I wouldn't have taken his hood." _

_Rachel pulled away, staring at him as if still trying to process it all. "You can't be doing this." _

_"Can and am. Somebody's got to." He caught her hands and looked her in the eyes. "And it won't be forever. Once the department comes to its senses and I can do my job..." He snapped his fingers. "It'll be over. Just like that." _

_"You know that won't happen anytime soon." _

_"Maybe. Maybe not." _

_She pulled away again, and this time I caught her wrist. "You can't tell anyone." _

_Rachel just looked at me like I had bugs coming out of my ears. _

_"You know about it," Elijah said. "One is enough." _

_"Mom and Dad-" _

_"Can't know, and they can't hear it from you. Word can't get around." _

_She stared at us for a long minute. "You're not gonna stop, are you." _

_"We already said we wouldn't. Not now, anyway." _

_"We know what we're doing," I added softly. _

_Rachel watched us again, as though waiting for us to grab our rifles and head out right then. Then she yanked her hand away and stormed out the front door without a word. _

_

* * *

_

The kitchen had fallen silent, so much that Laurie could hear a dishwasher gurgling away. The scene was frozen, as though Danny had imprisoned them all in ice: The ghosts, staring at Elijah; Laurie, holding the cell phone to her ear though Cynthia was long gone; and Elijah, watching them all with green eyes the size of saucers. Under the circumstances, there was only one course of action.

Laurie slipped the cell phone into her pocket and smiled past her pounding heart. "Hello, sweetheart."

Elijah blinked, then quickly came forward, grabbed her hand, and pulled her out of the kitchen and out of earshot. "Laurie, what're you doin'?"

"Networking," she said, pulling her hand free. "I thought you, of all people, would understand the importance."

"Not with them, you're not." He gripped her shoulders. "Laur, those cons are dangerous. You know how many times Edna's been in and outta here?"

Laurie couldn't help smiling. "So her name _is_ Edna. And this is her fourth stint, according to her."

"You _talked_ to them? Oh, _Laur_..."

"What? I'd think talking to a woman who has escaped from one of the most secure locations in the universe would come in handy before too long."

"How? When, Laurie? Since when has...has...fraternizing with the enemy _ever _done a lick of good?"

"Since-" She stopped as realization hit her with the force of a blow. Watching her husband- an almost frenzied look in his green eyes- she understood him in an instant. A long pause stretched between them. She exhaled slowly, and when she spoke her voice was soft.

"It's done more good than you might think. More than you've seen." Her fingers brushed his cheek. "Please, Elijah. I know what I'm doing. Trust me, will you?"

He didn't answer; just gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Okay, Laurie. All right."

She smiled, a sad, knowing sort of smile. "Thank you," she whispered.


	37. Chapter 37

__

_Before I start this chapter, I would like to request that readers not use anonymous reviews of my stories to impersonate other members of this site. It's rude and immature and I will not tolerate it. If you want to be mean, please take it elsewhere. Or just stop. That works too. _

* * *

Laurie Walker.

Her name called an army of memories to mind. Christmas presents. Birthday cards. Humor-laced talks on the phone. The name of Danny's grandmother was like a slap in the face.

Her address hadn't changed since Danny was fourteen. Dan stepped through the portal into her living room. If a home had ever been made to fit a person, this one fit Gramma Laurie to a tee. Bright patterned afghans were draped over the tastefully bland sofa and armchair, accompanied by equally bright pillows that didn't match and didn't try. A stack of books sat on the coffee table; one lay open and face-down. Framed photographs covered the shelves and end tables, with more on the walls. A basket of laundry sat beside the sofa. Loose papers and envelopes were everywhere, piled on counters and the floor and the kitchen table.

The house was a mess. But since tracking Laurie seemed the easiest way to track Danny, he'd just have to sift through it.

Dan went to the nearest wall of photographs and saw nothing but frame after frame of Jazz and Danny, grinning stupidly. Jazz in childish velvet dress and Danny in miniature vest and slacks. Jazz and Danny playing on the beach. Jazz and Danny in Halloween costumes. Behind each one he heard Maddie's voice: _Smile, Danny! C'mon, Danny, this one's for the Christmas card! I know it's been a long day, but you need to smile! Smile, sweetie! Smile! _

With a growl, Dan turned away, firing a bolt into the center picture as he did. Glass shattered and a thin plume of smoke curled from the blackened picture.

This might take longer than he'd thought.

* * *

Sam studied her cards, fanned out in front of her. Getting a Hug, Napoleon Bonaparte, Computers, two people she'd never heard of, Pyromaniacs, and The Great Depression. Not a terrible hand, but under the circumstances...

Playing Apples to Apples had been Gramma Laurie's idea. Sure, a third of the cards were missing, but Apples to Apples was Apples to Apples. Sam agreed that it was best to not dwell on the missing cards. It was a fun game and had been one of the first steps in Danny and Dash's truce. With any luck, it could work its charm once again.

Like most of the items he'd confiscated, Walker hadn't known what the game was and hadn't bothered to find out. "I don't break my own rules, Laur," he'd reportedly said. Sam wasn't sure what Laurie had told him to convince him otherwise- probably a few mild threats and a good bit of wheedling- but here he was, seated next to his wife, staring at his cards. The silence was as thick as the brick of cream cheese at the center of the table, and brittle as the off-brand ghost Fritos in the bag next to it.

"Mind if I turn the lights up a bit?" Maddie asked.

Walker pointed, intent on his cards. "Switch is over there."

"Thanks," Maddie said, flicking the switch. The room brightened instantly. "Felt like a speakeasy there for a minute."

Jack and Laurie grinned, Walker snorted a laugh, and Tucker looked confused. Sam caught his eye from across the table.

"Those bars that sold bootleg gin during Prohibition. Remember? History class?"

"Oh! Yeah, I remember." He grinned, dipping a chip in the cream cheese. "Good one, Maddie."

Sam glanced at Danny, who had cracked a smile but hadn't kept a look of distaste from his features. It vanished quickly, but not quick enough. "You should try it, Danny."

"What, the Fritos? No, thanks." He looked at his cards, then tossed one face-down onto the table.

"They're really good," Tucker offered, grabbing another.

Sam felt Danny's tension, but ignored it in favor of choosing a card. She tossed it onto the table, did a quick count and saw that everyone had chosen. Walker gathered them, stacked them neatly and began reading aloud, tossing each card down as he read it.

"The word was 'Profound.' We have...George Washington...Pyromaniacs...The Universe..." He broke off chuckling. "Okay, I'm goin' with this one."

"What is it?" Laurie read the card over her husband's shoulder, then laughed. "_The Grateful Dead_? Good Lord..."

"Who had this one?" Danny raised his hand. Walker looked surprised, but handed him the green card. "Here ya go."

Sam saw a look of surprise cross Danny's face as well, but he placed the card with the others he'd won. "Thanks." He stared at the Fritos then, apparently on a whim, grabbed one and dipped it in the cream cheese. His eyes widened, and Walker didn't miss it.

"Good, huh?"

"Amazing! You came up with it?"

"Reckon so. Never met anyone else who's tried it."

Danny dipped another chip in the cream cheese. "Well, it's awesome."

Laurie looked up at the same moment Sam did. They exchanged conspiratorial smiles, then went back to their cards. Apples to Apples had worked its magic.

* * *

_I know what you're thinking: "Fritos and cream cheese? Ew! Who EATS that?" Well, I have a task for you. Go to the kitchen, grab a brick of cream cheese from the fridge and a bag of Fritos from the cupboard. Dip the Fritos in the cream cheese; a medium amount is best so you can taste both. Now wasn't that delicious? _

_Go ahead, have another. _

_And another. _

_One more won't hurt._

_In loving memory of my Granddad, a world-class snacker who introduced me to the joy of Fritos with cream cheese. _


	38. Chapter 38

Once the game was finished, Danny went back to his room and the diary. Reading it had ceased being a chore; he had thought on several occasions that if schoolbooks were this interesting, he might have been a better student.

Tucker stepped through the door, saw Danny raise the diary, and left again. Danny let him go without comment. The prison was safe, the diary interesting, and the room was quiet. A winning combination, as far as Danny was concerned.

_

* * *

_

__

November 5, 1965

_I'm pregnant. _

_I don't know how far along I am, and I have no idea if it's a boy or a girl. I don't think more than a month or so, since I haven't begun to show yet. I haven't told Elijah and have no idea what he'll say when I do. _

_The Klan hasn't weakened much, and I'm not about to let Eli go out there alone. _

_November 7, 1965_

_Visited Grandma today. She already suspected, but said it was nice to hear it from me all the same. She asked if I'd told Elijah yet, and I said no. _

_"You'd better do it soon, Sugar," she said. "He's bound to notice before too long." _

_He's already noticed something is wrong. I've hardly spoke to him in two days, for fear the truth will jump out of my mouth if I use too many words. _

* * *

_November 13, 1965 _

_I told him. _

_He didn't seem angry about it, as I had feared, but he was definitely surprised. He blinked, then smiled as though he'd suddenly remembered to, hugged me and said "That's great, Laurie! We're gonna be a family!" _

_I'm so relieved I could cry. _

* * *

_February 10, 1966_

_I can't believe Elijah. He sneaks out, leaving me behind, and then gets UPSET when I COVER him! You think I'd let him go out there alone? Get killed all by himself? _

_Nice try, Elijah. You face the Klan, I face the Klan. That's just the way it is. _

_February 10, 1966- Later _

_I helped him. For all he knows, I saved his life. I'm not speaking to him until he apologizes. _

_February 10, 1966- Later _

_I keep thinking back to what he said when we returned: "You can risk your own life, but I won't have you risking the life of our child!" _

_Is that what he thinks I was doing? I was saving him, not risking our baby. There's a difference. _

_Isn't there? _

_February 11, 1966_

_We've made up. He's right, in a way: If I get hurt, so does the baby. But he knows I'm right, too. If he gets hurt and I could've stopped it, I'll never forgive myself. Or him, for making me stay behind. _

_I'm not letting him go out there alone. Until I'm too big to move, I'm going with him. _

_

* * *

__July 13, 1966_

_Alicia Rain Walker was born today at 3:57 AM. Eight pounds, seven ounces, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Elijah cradles her as I write this. I don't think he's stopped looking at her since he took her in his arms. _

_

* * *

_

_August 21, 1966 _

_Elijah went out tonight, and I'm here with Alicia. I wanted to follow him- and I still do- but every time the thought occurs to me I feel guilty for allowing it in. _

_I can't leave Alicia. She's a month old and depends on me for everything. Leaving her alone wouldn't just be irresponsible, but cruel. __I suppose I could leave her with a babysitter, but the only one I'd trust is Rachel, and she'd know what we were up to the minute I told her the hours she'd be working. And then she'd tell her parents, who would tell my grandparents, and that's a conversation I'd rather not have. But then I think of Elijah, surrounded by white hoods and woodsmoke, and I want to scream. _

_I'll just have to wait. I'll stay up until he gets home, maybe even greet him when he comes inside. Alicia has been crying on and off all night anyway, determined not to let me sleep. It's as though she knows what her Papa's up to, and won't rest until she knows he's safe and sound. _

_Keep crying, Alicia. That makes two of us- one who wants to, and one who can. _

_

* * *

_

Gah. Sorry this chapter was so short. I just needed to catch the diary timeline up to the story timeline, and I guess I didn't need a ton of words to do that. :)


	39. Chapter 39

_September 15, 1968 _

_Church today. I dropped Alicia off in the nursery and stopped by the bathroom. Cynthia Barnes was in there, hands gripping the counter, sniffling. Even though I had an idea of what the problem was, I asked her what was wrong. _

_"Oh, it's nothing. I'm fine." _

_I took a deep breath, holding back a barrage of words. "Are you sure? Because you don't look fine." _

_Her hands flew to her cheeks and she glanced up sharply at her reflection. I saw what she was registering: puffy eyes, blotchy cheeks, smeared mascara. "I can't go out there like this!" _

_I watched her wet a paper towel and dab at the mascara. I leaned against the counter, then said as gently as I could, "You want to tell me what happened? Maybe I can help." _

_"Jeff and I had a fight," she sniffed after a long minute. "Just a silly little thing. It's nothing." _

_"Really?" I must've sounded more sarcastic than I'd meant to, because she caught my gaze in the mirror. _

_"It was nothing. I'm just..." She swatted at a few stray tears. "God, I'm a mess." _

_Through the bathroom door I could hear the muffled sounds of singing. Service had started, and Cynthia still looked a mess. _

_I didn't want to help her. I wanted to let her go out there, cheeks all red and nose all runny, and walk past people as they sang. I wanted them to ask questions and get answers. I wanted them to see Jeff for the jerk he is, to look past the smooth facade he presents. _

_I guess you could say I wanted revenge. Not for me, but for Cynthia. She's too timid to stand up for herself. I wanted Elijah to pound Jeff to a pulp outside on the church steps while the congregation cheered and Pastor shouted about wickedness never going unpunished. _

_It was a nice thought. Beautiful, even. But I knew Cynthia didn't want that. She wanted to go out there and make everyone think what she wanted to believe: that everything is fine, it was just a silly little fight, and don't all married couples fight once in a while?_

_It was down to a simple choice: cathartic vengeance, or winning her trust. I sighed. "Splash some cold water on your face, then wash off the rest of your mascara." _

_She did, then smiled. "Thanks, Laurie. You're a good friend." _

_I watched her go, staring after her like the traitor I was, then found Elijah. I took baby Maddie from him and held her close. _

_"Took you long enough," he said over the music. _

_"Cynthia and Jeff had a fight," I told him. "I was in there smoothing over the damage." _

_He shook his head. "Can't stand that man." _

_"We're inviting them over for lunch today." _

_Elijah just stared at me. _

_"She needs a friend, Eli." _

_"Jeff doesn't need free food." _

_"Come on, Elijah. You know I don't like him any more than you do. I was actually daydreaming about you beating him to a pulp outside after service." _

_"Not a bad idea, really. Think we can get it past Pastor Andrew?" _

_"Well, in my version he was using your beatdown as an example of wickedness never going unpunished, but you and I both know that's probably not going to happen. So..." _

_He sighed. "Make it dinner. I'll need a few hours." _

_"Deal." _

_

* * *

_

Hours later, Dan was back where he started: Gramma Laurie's living room, with nothing to show for his efforts but shattered knicknacks and blackened photographs. He'd found nothing more than he already knew.

One corner of photographs had been ignored. Down the hall, a collection of old, grainy pictures bore witness to Maddie and Alicia's childhood. Dan turned away, then back. Even if these pictures revealed nothing, he could at least say he'd left no stone unturned.

Dan gave each picture no more than a cursory glance. The endless pictures of the sisters as children, waiting for the bus stop, playing in the backyard, performing in Christmas plays, annoyed him. Stupid smiles, stupid celebrations of stupid events. The wedding photo was especially irritating.

Wedding photo?

In his admittedly few visits to Laurie's home, Danny had never paid much attention to her wedding photo. So when Dan saw the groom, grinning and clutching his grandmother's arm, it came as a shock.

Walker.

Laurie _Walker_.

Dan grinned. He loved it when puzzle pieces came together like this.


	40. Chapter 40

_September 19, 1968 _

_Today Elijah got home from work, pulled me aside and said "I need you with me again." _

_"Why? I thought the sherriff's been firing Klansmen." _

_He smiled a bit. "Exactly. And we're gonna help him out." _

_"You don't mean..." I saw he did, and pulled away. "You know how dangerous that is!"_

_"Effective, though." _

_"Eli, that one time it worked- that could've been a fluke, or dumb luck, or-" _

_"Or good sharpshooting. Laurie, if we can get even a couple Klansmen in the hospital, we'll put the rest on edge and get those few out even faster." _

_"And you're hoping Jeff will be one of those we put in the hospital." _

_Again he smiled, sort of wistfully. "Just a flesh wound." His smile fell. "You don't know what it's like, working with that bastard every day. He's more trouble than he's worth...I can't do this without you, Laur." _

_I thought it over for a minute, then nodded slowly. It was crazy, but what other options were there? "Rachel?" _

_"I'll ask." _

_Again I nodded. "Okay." _

_"Okay?" _

_"If she'll watch the girls, I'll go with you." _

* * *

Dan considered pursuing Danny immediately after deducing his location. The prison was secure, but not impenetrable, and the sooner he was rid of Danny the better.

As he mulled the thought, curiosity set in.

The back of the photo was labeled and dated: Elijah and Laurie, January 11, 1964. Many more were undated, but the ones that were told a story.

_August 13, 1966_. Alicia Rain was born. _May 21, 1968_. Madeline Autumn followed her sister into the world. Christmas family portraits from 1966 through 1975 showed the two girls slowly maturing as their parents stood proudly behind them.

Then, in 1976, something happened.

Dan wasn't sure what, but Elijah was quite literally out of the picture in 1976. Portraits from then on showed Laurie as Alicia and Maddie's sole parent. Something had happened; some disaster not shown through through a photographer's lens.

Outside, the sky had darkened to a deep purple-blue. A few stars had ventured out into the night, sparkling through the window. If the unnamed event had made it into the newspaper, Dan could check the archives without being bothered. He could do it during the day, of course, but this way would be far less messy.

* * *

_April 14, 1969 _

_We got him. Jeff, I mean. _

_Elijah and I were on another stakeout last night, watching over one of Meridian's mostly Jewish neighborhoods. The Klan has been targeting them lately, so that's where we've been. _

_They had canisters of gasoline, which meant they were going to set fire to a home or some other place. Elijah and I followed at a distance. Once they'd reached their target, he stayed on the ground while I climbed onto a nearby rooftop, where we opened fire. _

_We've done this dozens of times, and every time we start firing, they panic. They're surprised. They scream and swear and scatter from the bullets like some hideous flock of demented white birds. Tonight our goal was to shoot and wound as many as we could without giving away our location. Nothing fatal- no vital organs or head shots- just enough to put them in the hospital. A shot in the arm or the foot, _maybe_ the kneecap, if they seemed especially horrid. _

_Anyway, we wounded three before the rest scattered. Once they were out of sight, I covered Elijah while he darted over and snatched their hoods. The hospital would find their identities easily enough, but taking their masks is sort of symbolic. Like we're the ones unveiling them to the world, not some nameless orderly at the hospital. _

_The first two I couldn't see that well, since their faces were turned. The third was facing me, screaming and holding his bleeding leg, so I had a perfect view when Elijah took his hood. If it wasn't Jeff, it was someone who looked just like him: same dark hair, same mouth, same face shape. I just stared and stared. It's a good thing no one came back for him, because I wouldn't have remembered to fire. _

_Elijah hasn't stopped talking about it since we got home. I don't think he can believe it, either. _

_

* * *

_

The trip through the archives took longer than Dan had hoped. Beginning January 1, 1976, he scanned each newspaper for references to an Elijah Walker. If it _was_ murder, it would have made the front page, but he also checked the obituaries, just to be sure. Still, something told him it was murder. He couldn't picture Walker going any other way.

Midway through March, frustration set in, but Dan kept it in check. Patience was a virtue, one he had in admittedly short supply. Even so, he kept at it.

He skimmed over articles on the bicentennial Fourth of July celebration and various community events. All were tedious, dull and pointless. If he didn't find something soon, he'd call it a night and try his luck on-

Hm. _That_ was interesting.

August 19, 1976 announced itself with enormous block letters: "Officer Killed in Midnight Ambush." Walker's name captioned his picture.

Smiling a bit, Dan pulled up a swivel chair and began to read, stopping when he found two sentences that told him everything: _Jeffrey Barnes, a former Lauderdale County police officer, was taken to Riley Hospital under arrest. He will be charged with first degree murder for Walker's death. _

Dan read the rest of the article with interest and replaced the paper where he'd found it. A plan was forming.


	41. Chapter 41

Dawn streaked the sky with grey, the first hint that morning would soon arrive. A few brave birds chirped their approval as the last cool evening breeze ruffled the grass. None of this was visible from Jeff Barnes' cell, but he was awake anyway. He'd risen with the sun since his arrest and wasn't about to change that now.

Not that it mattered.

There were many things to hate about prison. Substandard food and oppressive body odor were just the beginning. Worst of all, though, was the boredom. Prison was _boring_.

Jeff rolled onto his back. The silver-grey hand-drawn swastika smiled at him in the faint light. Not his best work, but the first one had been painted over when a guard complained. After some shouting about free speech and the Constitution, the warden had shrugged and said there was nothing he could do. Jeff had simply retraced the swastika, whistling all the while.

The light was too faint to see any minor blemishes, but Jeff remembered seeing a few smears the day before. Looked like his graffiti was due for a touch-up. As always, he wondered if he should just erase the thing. Nobody commented on it anymore; few even looked at it. Keeping it tidy for all these years seemed pointless.

No sooner had he thought this than something cold whispered past him, as though a breeze had crept through the concrete walls. Frowning, he rolled onto his side and just stopped short of screaming.

Where emptiness had been, a man with flaming hair and a cape stood. He cocked an eyebrow, arms folded. "Finally awake?"

Jeff sat up. "How long've you been there?"

"Long enough. The question is, how much longer will you be here?"

"Till I die," he said matter-of-factly.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Got life," he said with a grimace. "What rock were you under?"

The stranger smiled. "How would you like early release?"

Jeff eyed him doubtfully. "And how would you swing _that_? 'Case you haven't noticed, they got this place locked up tighter than-"

Without another word, the stranger swiped his hand through the concrete, bringing it in an arc just over Jeff's head. He ducked, then sat bolt upright again, staring in amazement. "You're a ghost, ain't you?"

"How do you think I got in?" He took a few steps, then turned back. "Are you coming?"

"Hold up a second. I wanna know what's in it for _you_, and what's in it for _me_. I ain't runnin' off with a bigger bastard than the sons of bitches who run this place."

Again the stranger smiled. "Does the name _Elijah Walker _mean anything to you?"

* * *

_April 20, 1969_

_Cynthia has called me almost daily since Eli and I put Jeff in the hospital. He's been discharged and hasn't been arrested, but he did lose his job. Both he and Cynthia are really upset about it. They just show it in different ways. Jeff shows it by yelling at his wife and throwing things, and Cynthia shows it by calling me in tears and sobbing into the phone for thirty minutes at a stretch. (I've heard him on several occasions. She made her excuses and hung up quickly, but I still heard.) _

_I feel terrible. I know he deserved it. I know it was for the Greater Good, as Elijah says. (Whenever we talk about our recent campaign, those two words always surface. He's always talking about the Greater Good, but never really defines what it is, exactly.) And I know that if he was allowed to stay in the department, he'd just make things worse for everyone. Klansmen shouldn't have that kind of power. _

_And yet...I can't help but think that there might've been another way. Jeff would've been discovered eventually. Sooner or later, word would have reached the top and he would've lost his job anyway. I guess all we did is speed up the process a bit. _

_I know all this is true. I know we did something for the Greater Good. But Cynthia is my friend, and I wonder if the good we did wasn't worth the damage it caused. _

_

* * *

_

In the Morris household, the insistent ringing of the phone announced the morning. Cynthia kept her eyes shut, lying perfectly still. If she didn't move, she wouldn't have to answer it. She smiled to herself as Leonard groaned, rolled out of bed and picked up the reciever. "Hello? Who is this? Is she...why?"

Cynthia didn't open her eyes. If it wasn't important, Leonard would tell them to call back.

"Cynthia? You awake?"

Groaning, she rolled over and took the reciever. "Hello?"

"Cynthia? Sorry to bother you so early."

"That's okay, Patrick. What's going on?"

"Well...Nobody's sure how it happened or why, but..." He paused, and she heard him inhale. "Jeff's escaped."

Sitting up, fully awake now, Cynthia gripped the reciever in both hands. "What...what do you mean?"

"He's gone, Cynthia. Like he just walked through a wall."

She swallowed hard. Leonard was staring at her, but she didn't meet his gaze. "You're serious?"

"I wouldn't be tellin' you if I weren't."

"What...is there anything...?"

"We've got officers out searching for him now. All the local news stations know. With any luck, we'll find him in no time."

Cynthia thanked him and stared at the reciever for a long minute after the line went dead. Knowing Jeff, luck would soon be in short supply.

* * *

_May 1, 1969_

_Jeff found another job. _

_Judge me as you will for this, but I was hoping he'd find one in another city, preferably another state. But no, he found a job here in Meridian, so he and the family will be here for a while yet. _

_Cynthia was ecstatic. I'm glad she gets to stay, I really am, but I could only congratulate her so many times before I felt like a traitor. _


	42. Chapter 42

_May 29, 1969_

_Elijah is much happier now that Jeff and most of the other Klansmen have been fired. He came home whistling tonight. Whistling! (I think it was "Eve of Destruction" by Barry McGuire, but that's not really the point, is it?) _

_Unfortunately, so is Jeff. _

_I took the girls with me to visit, just to throw him off our trail. I doubt he's connected us to what happened, but better safe than sorry. _

_Anyway, he works in the back room of a furniture store downtown. We dropped in, said hi, asked if he liked his new job. He said he did, and complained about those "nigger-loving bastards who ran him out of the other one." _

_What he said didn't surprise me. Come to think of it, hearing his new boss, Mr. Nelson, agree with him didn't surprise me, either. It only makes sense that Jeff would be hired by a sympathizer. Hearing it was a bit shocking at the time, of course, and it took every ounce of self-control I had to not cover Alicia's ears, but not a word surprised me. In less than five minutes they managed to weigh in heavily against blacks, Jews, and anyone else who happens to make their hate list. Elijah and I were near the top, though God help us both if they ever find out it was us. _

_I left as soon as I could. I don't know how much of this Alicia will remember when she's older, but I don't want her exposed to Mr. Nelson. I've heard the term "soulless eyes" before. Until now, I've never seen it. _

_Mr. Nelson's eyes aren't just dark, they're vacant. Look into them too long, and you'll see there's nothing behind them. _

_

* * *

_

_October 4, 1971 _

_Cynthia has started bringing Timmy over after Alicia goes to school. He's a year younger than Alicia, and remarkably well-behaved, considering who his father is. She'll walk over (it isn't far) and stay and chat for an hour or so before going back to her house and working on whatever household chores need to be completed that day. Timmy plays with Maddie while we talk. _

_She never talks about Jeff, and when she does it's a cursory mention. It's as though he's always following her in spirit, eavesdropping on everything she says when he's not around. She doesn't dare say anything against him for fear he'll find out. _

* * *

Laurie blinked away sleep. Cold concrete above her, cold concrete below, cold concrete on all four sides. Expecting anything different from a prison would be ludicrous. Still, it would have been less lonely with Elijah beside her.

They had remained separate at his suggestion. Things were different now, he had said. It wouldn't be the same.

Laurie knew he was right. Even if he were wrong, she wouldn't have risked an argument. So she had kissed his cheek and retired to her room for the night.

Now, in the eerie half-dark of a Ghost Zone dawn, she wished she had put up more of a fight. Thirty-four years was too long to be apart, ghost or no ghost.

Her cell phone rang, jolting her from her thoughts. Laurie stood, wincing at the cold, and grabbed her phone from her purse on the floor. "Hello?"

"Laurie? It's Cynthia."

"What's wrong? You sound upset."

Cynthia swallowed hard. Laurie heard her take a shuddering breath. "Patrick just called. He-he doesn't know how it happened, and neither does anyone else, but...Jeff's escaped."

The words hit Laurie like a physical blow. "Do they know how he did it? Dig his way out, something like that?"

"No, no they don't. Patrick said it's like he just walked through a wall."

Laurie went cold. "Through a wall?"

"Yeah." Cynthia gasped. "You don't think..."

"I don't know, but it makes sense. That ghost that's been on the loose in Amity..." She swallowed. "You haven't seen Jeff yet, have you?"

"No. No, I haven't."

"Okay. Just stay there and do what the cops tell you." A knock sounded at her door. "Cynthia, I need to go. I'll call you back in a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay."

"All right. Bye." Laurie flipped her phone closed, then crossed to the door. Elijah stood on the other side.

"Who was that?"

Laurie exhaled, heart pounding. "Cynthia." She ignored his surprise. "We have a problem."

* * *

_February 5, 1975_

_Elijah has found himself smack in the middle of a controversy. _

_A black man and a white man applied for the same position in the police department. The black man was more qualified, but the white man was the preferred candidate. Elijah caught wind of this and took his complaint to the top. Long story short, Eli is pulling all the strings he can and spends half the day arguing about it. He comes home, answers the phone and argues some more. _

_I've met the family of the man, Patrick Johnson. They're very nice. From an outsider's perspective, Patrick seems completely qualified for the job._

_I know this sounds selfish of me, but I hope this doesn't ruin Elijah's career. He's doing the right thing and doesn't deserve any grief over it. I hope he wins this round. _


	43. Chapter 43

_February 27, 1975_

_Elijah comes home from work tired and frustrated all the time now. The battle with his supervisors isn't going well; from what he's told me, half the officers on the force hate him and the other half ignores him. I can always tell when he's had an especially nasty time of it because he'll start to slam the door, catch himself just in time, and close it more quietly than he should. _

_He told me the details as I was fixing dinner, his voice low so the girls wouldn't hear. Apparently, his supervisors have decided to take another look at both applications. It's been two weeks, and they're still "under review." Eli thinks it means they're stalling, and he's probably right. More likely than not, they're testing him, seeing how far they can push him before he breaks down and goes along with their decision. You'd think that after over ten years in the department, they'd know him better than that. _

_I don't blame him for how he acts at all. A little righteous anger never hurt anyone. I know that if I were in his shoes, I'd feel the exact same way. And I can't say I'd act any differently, though I wish _he _would try. _

_He's in the living room now, listening to the girls tell him about school. Maddie is talking a mile a minute. I swear, there isn't a thing that girl fails to notice and comment on. Every subject, everything her classmates do, everything the teacher says- right down to what they learned and when- everything ends up being important and worthy of reporting. _

_Hearing her talk seems to be helping Elijah. The more she says, the calmer his responses sound. If he could take her to work with him, maybe he wouldn't be chastised for his temper._

_March 5, 1975 _

_It's finally happened. Elijah has threatened to take the case to court if they don't hire Patrick. _

_He should get the job. He's clearly the more qualified candidate, and with all the legislation that's been passed in recent years, he'll win in court._

_I guess Elijah just snapped when he heard they're still looking the applications over. I asked him what he said, and he told me without a hint of remorse that he wouldn't repeat the words he used where the girls could hear. _

_"Are you sure that was wise?" I asked him. _

_"It don't matter if it was wise or not," he said. "Patrick deserves that job." _

_I slammed the dishtowel down. Slamming a dishtowel isn't very satisfying, but they don't break. "And what if you lose yours? What will we do if you get fired over this? Did you think of that?" _

_"I think about it every day! Every damn day I go in and wonder if I'm gonna lose my job, but they keep me around so I keep fighting." He sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "I'm not gonna stop, Laur. Patrick is going to get that job, no matter what it takes." _

_"And what if-" _

_"Mama?" _

_We both froze as Maddie poked her head into the kitchen. "Yes, sweetie?" _

_"Could you help me with my homework?" _

_Elijah and I looked at each other, both knowing the argument wouldn't go any further as long as Maddie was around. "I'm busy right now, but-" _

_"I'll help you." Maddie wrapped her tiny hand around his finger and led him out of the kitchen. He caught my gaze as he left, and I felt suddenly guilty for fighting with him. He's doing the right thing for the right reasons. _

_But dear Lord, I hope his methods don't get him fired. _

_March 10, 1975 _

_News of the battle has spread. When I go into town, people don't greet me like they used to. I'll walk by and they're suddenly busy with unlocking their cars, with studying a window display, with looking every direction but mine. Even Cynthia seems afraid to be caught talking to me. Today she crossed to the other side of the street when she saw me coming. I can well imagine the kinds of things Jeff says about Elijah and I behind closed doors. _

_I don't know how many of them actually side with us, but it doesn't matter. If they're too chicken to show their loyalty, then their loyalty isn't worth much. _

_Elijah has threatened to take the case all the way to the Supreme Court, if he must. Part of me hopes it doesn't come to that, but the other part hopes it does. I want the nation to see what he's done. I want them to see how much he- how much we all- have sacrificed. Perhaps that's selfish of me, but no matter what happens, I don't want all of these headaches to be for nothing. _

_He's recieved threats, mostly in the form of notes. Someone threw a rock through our window last night, with a note that said "Nigger lover." When Elijah saw it, he dropped the rock on the floor and headed to our room. He started to open the closet, where we keep our rifles and other equipment, but I put my hand over his, stopping him. _

_"They're long gone, Eli," I said. "There's nothing we can do." _

_He kept his hand on the doorknob for a long moment, staring at it as though trying to hear what it had to say. Finally he sighed, let go, and went back into the living room without a word. By then the girls were awake and frightened. Alicia had the note in her hand and was reading it curiously. _

_"All right, you two, get back to bed." I took the note from her and crumpled it. _

_"But what did they want, Mama?" _

_I kissed the top of her head. "Nothing you need to worry about. Now get back to-" _

_"Why'd they use that word?" Maddie wanted to know. We don't let either of our girls use it. _

_"Because no one ever told them not to," I told her, then nearly shoved them down the hall to their room. _

_By the time I returned, Elijah was sweeping up the broken glass. I tossed the rock into the yard, then put my arms around him. _

_"They're cowards, really," I whispered. "Don't worry about them." _

_"They were brave enough to vandalize our home." _

_"Not brave enough to face us. Just let it go, okay? We'll get the window repaired, then-" _

_"Then what? Act like it never happened?" _

_I met his gaze. "Yes. That's exactly what we'll do." I kissed his cheek. "This battle isn't worth fighting." _

_April 30, 1975_

_Patrick got the job! _

_It took nearly three months and multiple threats, but Elijah's protesting finally paid off! Patrick was hired on the grounds of being more qualified and a better fit for the department. _

_We had him and his wife, Theresa, over to celebrate. They thanked him over and over. _

_"It was unfair, plain and simple," he told them. "I wasn't gonna stop until they cracked or I did." _

_I'm glad it was the former who cracked and not the latter. _

_May 3, 1975_

_Elijah told me a secret today: He's the one who made the department decide Patrick was a better fit. Apparently, he found some nasty secrets about the other guy and used them to Patrick's advantage. _

_I'm not sure what to think about this. _

_On one hand, it seems obvious: Make sure the more qualified candidate is hired. And if the other guy fudged his records to make himself look better...well, that's self-explanatory, isn't it? _

_On the other hand, Elijah had other options. Patrick isn't the first black officer to join the force here in Meridian. Eli said he mentioned this- several times, in fact- but still. _

_He swore me to secrecy, and I won't tell a soul. Not when I know this could put him in a lot of danger. But I still can't help wondering...did he really do the right thing? _

_

* * *

_

Another diary chapter while I bring everything up to speed...


	44. Chapter 44

_May 4, 1975_

_Church today. Until this morning, we've been going to the same church we've always gone to. Elijah says we need to keep up appearances. _

_We always arrive early, to save seats. We'd just found a nice spot near the middle of the sanctuary- not too close, not too far away- and were getting the girls settled in when who should happen along but our old friend Jeffrey. He walked over, wearing that snakelike smile, and claimed the three seats next to us. As it worked out, Jeff was sitting right next to Elijah. _

_"So, Eli," he said, friendly as can be, "I hear they hired that nigger back at the station." _

_"Yes, Patrick was hired just last week." _

_"That his name? Patrick?" He snorted a laugh. Eli raised a brow. _

_"You think that's funny?" _

_"I dunno. Just don't sound like a nigger name, that's all." _

_I glanced at Cynthia to see what she made of all this, but she had her nose in the hymnbook, pretending not to hear. _

_"Funny you ain't heard his name til now," Elijah said. "Most everyone in town knows it." _

_"Oh, I knew it before you told me." _

_He looked Jeff in the eye. "Then why'd you ask?" _

_Jeff smirked. "Just wanted to hear you say it, that's all." He picked up his bulletin, and I felt Elijah relax. _

_Thanks to their little exchange, I was now in a rather sticky situation. I knew Jeff would try again before too long, poking at his temper like a boy stirring up an anthill. If I offered to trade seats, I'd be giving Jeff more ammunition, and if Eli accepted, he'd be giving in. But if I let him stay where he was, then his temper- and most likely his blood pressure as well- would rise. For him, just looking at Jeff Barnes is like dropping cold water into a hot skillet. Sizzle and hiss, and if you leave it too long, you might see smoke. _

_In the end, there wasn't much else to do but to stay where I was and let Elijah do the same. I put my hand over his, but the tension remained. Midway through the second hymn, Jeff nudged him. I was close enough to hear, but just barely. _

_"So how's that nigger working out for ya?" _

_Elijah's gaze never left his hymnbook. "Just fine." _

_"Fine? That all?" _

_"Yeah." _

_"You'd think that for them to hire a nigger over a white man, that nigger'd have to be pretty special." _

_"He's more qualified than that lacky of yours." _

_For a moment Jeff looked as though he'd been slapped, and I knew Elijah's comment had struck its mark. Then the smile slid back into place. "He ain't a lacky. He's just an honest white man trying to make a decent living in a country turned on its head." _

_"And Patrick is just a decent, hardworking father trying to keep his kids safe from your precious Klan." _

_Jeff's face betrayed his shock, and I tried to keep mine hidden. But my mind was whirring: How much did the sheriff tell his officers? How much did they find out on their own? How much was Elijah _supposed_ to know?_

_"You wanna say that again?" _

_"You heard me." _

_Cynthia put a hand on his arm, more firmly than I do with Elijah. Jeff turned on her, and she offered him a shy, pleading smile. He looked at her for a minute, then went back to his hymnbook, singing with more gusto than I've seen from him and Elijah combined. _

_I waited until the song ended to signal the girls. They looked surprised, but gathered up their things. I nudged Elijah and whispered it was time to go. Unlike the girls, he didn't seem surprised. He didn't hesitate to follow me out the door. _

_June 5, 1975_

_It's been a month and we haven't seen much of Jeff. Not that we try to run into him, but we don't see him any more than usual. I think he simply dismissed the hint as nothing at all. _

_Elijah has told me again and again that most of the officers knew why the Klansmen were being dismissed. There was a common thread running through all those firings, and a man would have to be blind not to see it. _

_June 8, 1975_

_We haven't found a new church yet. When we discussed it, I wanted to go to Patrick's church. So did Elijah, but it was never an option. If Jeff suspects anything, we'll need to fly under the radar for a while. _

_Dear Lord, it was easier when the Klan was more powerful. Chasing after them every night was far less complicated than running from them. Then, at least, we could see where they were. We could unmask them. Now, it's like that nightmare everyone has, where you're being chased by a shadow and you can't make your legs move. _

_July 4, 1975_

_We invited the Johnsons over for a barbeque. I suggested we invite the Barneses, to keep up appearances, but Elijah refused. "That man is not setting foot on my property, and that's that," he said. _

_Well, once we invited Patrick and his family, we couldn't invite Jeff and Cynthia anymore. I'd rather celebrate America's birthday without bloodshed. _


	45. Chapter 45

_October 15, 1975_

_Cynthia came over to chat today. I wasn't expecting her to speak to me again, but she showed up on my doorstep after sending Timmy off to school, same as always. Of course I invited her in. _

_"So what's new?" I asked, trying not to sound accusing as I put a pot of coffee on to brew. "I haven't seen much of you lately." _

_She shrugged. "Oh, not much. Just trying to get Timmy through the first month of school." _

_"How's he doing?" _

_"Just fine. He's a bright boy, so he hasn't had much trouble." _

_We chatted along those same dull lines for the next few minutes until the doorbell rang. _

_"Who could that be?" Cynthia asked. I already knew- and my heart was racing. _

_"Just a friend," I told her, hurrying to answer it. I greeted Theresa and led her into the kitchen, wondering what I'd say when we walked in. I didn't have long to wonder, though, since the house is fairly small. Before I was ready, we were in the doorway. Theresa stopped in her tracks. _

_"What is _she_ doing here?" _

_"It looks like she's having coffee." I smiled, trying not to show my own nervousness. Cynthia, for her part, looked ready to bolt. "Theresa, this is Cynthia. Cynthia, Theresa." I dashed over to the cupboard, got another cup and poured Theresa some coffee. She just kept staring at Cynthia as though she were a nest of vipers I'd led her into. _

_"I'd better go," Cynthia said, getting to her feet. _

_"You haven't finished your coffee yet," I laughed. "At least stay a few more minutes." _

_She sat down. _

_"I'm leaving, then." Theresa set her coffee mug on the counter and turned on her heel. _

_"Oh, come on," I laughed, catching her shoulder. "You just got here!" _

_"And I'm leaving." _

_"I'll just go, too," Cynthia said, standing again. _

_"Neither of you are going anywhere," I said. Theresa spun, her face angry; Cynthia looked at me as though I'd pulled a pistol from the kitchen drawer and held her at gunpoint. I knew how I sounded, but I wasn't about to let their preconcpetions about each other propell them out the door. "You both just got here, and if I asked you for one good reason to leave, I'll bet you couldn't come up with anything. Am I right?" _

_They looked at each other, then me, then away. _

_"Look," I said, softer this time. "I don't mean to be rude or pushy or anything-" _

_"You're doing an awful good job of it," Theresa muttered. _

_"But I consider you both my friends. You're both in my home, and as long as I'm here, this place is neutral ground." I sighed. "Go ahead and leave if you want. But keep in mind that as long as you run into me, you're bound to run into each other at some point." _

_Theresa stood there, arms folded, looking down. Cynthia stared into her coffee, then slowly sank into her chair. I held my breath as Theresa picked up her coffee mug, came to the table, and sat down. _

_We talked for a while; then Cynthia said she'd best be getting back, chores to do. Theresa hung back as I washed out Cynthia's coffee mug. _

_"I can't believe that woman married Jeff Barnes." _

_"You two seemed to hit it off." _

_"She's pretty nice," she said. "Doesn't seem like the kind of woman who'd marry a Klansman." _

_"She's timid," I said with a shrug. "I don't think she knew much about him when they married." _

_Theresa nodded. "Scared of her own shadow, poor thing." _

_"And scared to death of her husband." Theresa looked at me. "I've seen them together. Watching them over the past ten years has been like watching a five-car pileup in slow motion." _

_"She ever thought about leaving him?" _

_"I'm sure it's occured to her." I poured us each other cup of coffee and joined her at the table. "But like you said, she's scared of her own shadow. The only way she'd leave him is if staying suddenly looked worse than going it alone." _

_She nodded again, staring into her coffee. "You got her to stay and talk with me," she said with a smile. _

_I smiled too. "Yeah. I guess I did." I sighed again. "Seems like that's the limit, though." _

_"Maybe she'll come around someday." _

_"Yeah. Maybe." _

_January 11, 1976_

_Today is mine and Elijah's twelfth anniversary. I can't think of a time when I've ever been happier. _

_When I met him fourteen years ago, I never thought I'd be his wife. Now, fourteen years later, I have a home, two beautiful children, and a husband who I love more than I ever thought possible. He's given me excitement and joy, with just enough stubbornness to keep things interesting. Elijah is my anchor, something real in a world that's always shifting. No matter what changes, I know he never will. _

_I don't know how I managed before I met him. Now, I can't imagine life without him. None of what I have, of what I am, would exist without Elijah. _

_Happy anniversary to us. Here's to the next twelve years. _


	46. Chapter 46

_A humungous thanks to dragondancer123, who has graciously agreed to beta these last few chapters. And to everyone who's stuck with this story so long! _

_

* * *

_

June 17, 1976

_Now that school is out for summer, Theresa and I have started taking our kids to the park once or twice a week and letting them play together while we talk. _

_Today, we were sitting in our usual spot, chatting away, when who should walk up but Cynthia. Theresa and I greeted her, and I patted the bench next to me, making room for her. She lowered herself into the seat slowly, stiffly. _

_"Mama?" Timmy nodded toward the other kids playing a lively game of tag. _

_"Just for a minute," she said, and he ran off to join them. _

_"So what brings you here?" Theresa asked. _

_"I can't stay," she said, not looking at either of us. She gave the park a quick once-over, then leaned back as though she'd finally relaxed. I knew it was an act. _

_"What's going on with you, Cynthia?" I asked. "Haven't seen much of you lately." _

_"Oh, not much. Same old, same old. Jeff's been awful busy, though."_

_Both Theresa and I snapped to attention at that. "Really." _

_She nodded, staring straight ahead. "Mmhmm. Been getting together with his friends a couple times a week. Mostly they just go out for drinks." _

_"Do they?" I was beginning to think this wasn't just a quick how-have-you-been._

_"Talk about all sorts of things, how they're gonna start having some fun again. Doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Just lets me know he'll be gone again for a while yet." _

_Finally, she met my gaze. I forced a smile. "Sounds like he'll be out late, then. Must be hard on you." _

_She waved it away. "Oh, not really. I'm used to it by now." She stood. "I'd best be leaving. Timmy! Time to go!" _

_Timmy stopped running, looked at his friends, and back to his mother. Then, without a word, he waved goodbye and followed her out of the park. Theresa and I looked at each other. _

_"That what I think it was?" _

_I nodded. "That was a warning if I ever heard one." _

* * *

"Jeff's escaped."

He reacted as Laurie had predicted: a quick, sudden jerk backward. "_That _Jeff?_ Our_ Jeff?"

"I don't know many other Jeffs in prison right now."

He put a hand to his forehead, paced a bit, then turned on his heel and marched off down the hallway. Laurie followed.

"You're not going after him, are you?"

"I don't see why I wouldn't."

He set a brisk pace, but she caught up to him easily. "You haven't even heard how he got out. Don't you want to know that?"

_

* * *

_

June 24, 1976

_It's been a week and we haven't seen much of the Klan yet. I hope Cynthia was wrong__about the Klan. That it won't rise again, but Elijah isn't so sure. Neither am I. _

_I cleaned my rifle today, just to be on the safe side. Eli set up some targets in a field outside the city limits. We took the girls there and let them shoot, then showed them how it was done. I'm still a pretty good shot, after all these years. _

* * *

Walker stopped, folded his arms, and looked at her. "How did he escape?"

"Patrick said it was like he just walked through a wall." He turned again, and she grabbed his shoulder. "You know what that means; don't you?"

He broke free. "I know what it means."

_

* * *

_

July 17, 1976

_It's started again. Last night, Klansmen set fire to a cross outside a black family's home. Elijah and I didn't know them, and no one was hurt, but we both know what this means. _

_His parents have agreed to watch the girls on the nights we go out after them—which, until we're able to restore some order, will be most every night. As I write, the sun is setting. Elijah is getting our gear together and stashing it in the closet. Once we've dropped the girls off, we'll head back here, suit up, and head out. _

* * *

"Do you?"

"Means that bastard Dan broke him loose."

"And it means Dan had a _reason_ for breaking him out. He knows what happened, Elijah, and he's using Jeff because of it."

"Just another reason for me to go after him."

Laurie hurried around him, blocking his path. "That's an excuse and you know it, Eli. You go after Jeff, and you'll play right into Dan's hand."

_

* * *

_

August 2, 1976

_The Klan went after the Johnsons last night. Elijah and I saw the burning cross on their front lawn and followed. A little gunfire sent them running. _

_We picked the girls up around one, and then drove home. At one point I saw headlights behind us, but whoever it was passed us within a few miles. So I don't think we were being followed. _

_This morning, a neighbor told us they saw someone sneaking around our house, peering into our windows. I asked if they tried to break in and she said no. The prowler left after a few minutes. _

_Elijah and I are staying up late tonight, to see if the prowler comes back._

* * *

Walker pushed past her. "I ain't lettin' him get away again."

"Well, you'd better, if you've got any sense."

He whirled on her. "Whose side're you on, Laur? 'Cause it sure as hell ain't mine!"

_

* * *

_

August 9, 1976

_Another cross burning tonight. Elijah and I were there to make sure it didn't get ugly. Someone called the police, but they didn't get there until the Klansmen had fled. _

_We got home, the girls asleep in the backseat, and there was someone sneaking around the house. Our headlights caught him in the glare; he was wearing a mask. Ran when he saw us. _

_I told Elijah to call the station, but he said no. No one but us and his parents knew what we were doing, and the cops would ask why we weren't home on a Monday night. Unless the prowler tries to break in, there's nothing we can do. _

* * *

"I _am_ on your side, Elijah. That's why I don't want to see you running off and doing something stupid!"

He stepped toward her. His face was inches from hers, but Laurie didn't move. "_Stupid_? He _killed_ me, Laur! I haven't seen you or Maddie or Alicia in thirty-four years, and he's the reason! I didn't…" He exhaled, and his voice trembled. "I didn't know my own grandson because of _him_, and you're tellin' me goin' after him is _stupid_?"

Laurie looked him in the eye, unflinching. "It is if it gets someone else killed."

Walker drew back, jaw set. "I know it will."

She raised an eyebrow sardonically. "And who might that be, Elijah?"

* * *

Meridian Star

August 19, 1976

**Officer Killed in Midnight Ambush**

Former officer charged with murder

Elijah Walker, a longtime member of the Lauderdale County Police Department, was fatally shot in his home last night in a bizarre slaying involving between ten and fifteen Klansmen, authorities state.

"It doesn't make a lot of sense," Lieutenant Robert Delaney said. "A Klan slaying where the victim was white and the Klan was unprovoked….it just doesn't add up."

Details at present are sketchy, but the incident seems to have begun shortly after midnight, when Madeline Walker, age 8, smelled smoke. Rather than a house fire, however, the smoke came from a six-foot burning cross outside the room she shared with her sister, Alicia.

Elijah and his wife, Laurie, defended their home with rifles purchased for "recreational purposes," Laurie said.

Elijah was shot in the leg moments before police arrived. He successfully wounded Jeffrey Barnes, the Klansman who shot him, with a steak knife moments before police and ambulances arrived at the scene. Walker was then rushed to Riley Hospital.

He was pronounced dead on arrival.

Jeffrey Barnes, a former Lauderdale County police officer, was taken to Riley Hospital under arrest. He will be charged with first-degree murder for Walker's death.

* * *

Walker paused a few feet down the hallway but didn't turn. He didn't need to. He could see Laurie in his mind's eye: arms folded, feet planted firmly on the floor, violet eyes drilling him with a cool stare. He'd seen that look before, and each time it had sent him careening onto a different course. He couldn't afford to risk it now.

"Who do you think, Laur?"

He stormed down the hall, but Laurie didn't stay and watch. She turned on her heel and marched in the opposite direction, well within earshot when he slammed the door.


	47. Chapter 47

_Thanks again to dragondancer123 for her fantastic editing!_

* * *

When Laurie started, her pace was brisk and businesslike. Too fast, and she'd let Elijah know how upset she was, provided he was watching. Too slow, and she wouldn't make it to the others in time. But before too long, fear replaced anger, and she was jogging.

Danny's room was closest. Laurie pounded on the door, remembered she could simply walk through, and burst in. Danny sprang to his feet, dropping the diary, and Tucker sat up.

"Come on, get up," she said.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Just come on! Follow me. I don't think there's much time."

_

* * *

_

August 20, 1976

_It's been two days, and I can't stop thinking about it. It keeps playing in my head, over and over, until I'm sure I'll go crazy. None of the details faded. They become sharper, harsher, the more I see them in my mind's eye…_

_Maddie shook us awake around midnight, saying she smelled smoke. For an instant, I thought the house was on fire. Then I heard shouting. I crept to the window, drew the curtain aside just enough for a peek and looked out. _

_I've seen the same scene many times before: white-robed Klansmen in their peaked hoods, cavorting on the dew-soaked grass by the eerie light of a burning cross. But I've always watched from the safe distance of a rooftop, hidden behind a mask and rifle. I've never been on the level with them, separated only by thin walls and a fragile pane of glass._

"_They're here," I said. _

_Elijah was already at the closet. He tossed me my rifle. "Hold them off. I'll get the girls away from the windows." _

_Just then, a bullet shattered the window. I spun away, pressing my back against the wall; Elijah fell to the floor, pushing the girls down as they screamed. A voice followed the gunshot: "Come out and fight!" _

_I fired back, aiming for the Klansmen nearest the house. I missed the first two, then the last bullet grazed the robe of a third. "Get them to the hallway!" The hall is toward the center of the house, no windows. If they stayed there, they'd be safe unless the Klansmen managed to get inside. I heard him urge them out, telling the girls to keep low to the ground and close to the walls. _

_Once they started firing back, I ducked beneath the window and crept out of the bedroom, past the girls in the hall, and to the front entryway. I let them glimpse me through the window and crouched against the wall before they fired. The window shattered, giving me a place to fire from and a better view of my targets. _

_Elijah was on his way back to the bedroom when the sound of breaking glass came from the back of the house. Our eyes connected, and we both knew what was going on, someone had broken the window on the kitchen door and was trying to come inside. Without a word, he ran over, rifle in hand. _

_Outside, I saw that several Klansmen had apparently gotten the same idea as the one at the back. I followed them to the other side of the living room, taking down two as they ran. _

_It was strange.__ As I shot back and tried my best to make them miss shooting me, it was like my mind split down the middle. Half thought__,__ 'Shoot, shoot, shoot! He's shooting at you! He's going to hit you! Duck!__'__ The other half thought how alone we'd truly been all along. We spent four years firing at them from rooftops, and all this time it had only been the two of us. Two against ten didn't seem so impossible when we were invisible. This time, it was two against ten, but we were surrounded. We knew it, they knew it, and all I wanted was to keep shooting until they shot me. _

_I heard metal jangle as the Klansman at the back fumbled with the lock, then a harsh cry as Elijah propelled him back somehow. I hurried to the kitchen as another Klansman muscled his way to the door, slammed the butt of his rifle into Elijah's stomach, turned it around and aimed. I thought he was aiming for his heart, but the bullet caught him in the thigh. I ran into the kitchen, shooting to wound, but I aimed too high. The bullet sailed harmlessly into the night.  
_

_Elijah fell, crying out. I saw the Klansman take aim again. This time, I knew he'd shoot to kill. Now that I had reached him, I shoved the butt of my rifle into his shoulder, knocking him off the back steps. I didn't want his blood on my hands, especially with more of his fellow Klansmen outside. I thought I'd deal with him later._

_But I didn't have time to worry about him then. __Elijah was on the floor, bleeding. _

"_Where'd it hit you?" I asked, kneeling next to him. _

"_Look out!" The Klansman had regained his balance but lost his hood. It was Jeff. Until that moment, I've never been afraid of him. Angry at him, yes. But when I saw him, robed in white, dark hair tousled from the hood, glaring cold contempt down the barrel of a rifle, I thought I knew how Cynthia felt. _

_I don't know how he did it. I don't know how he managed to move, let alone stand with one leg wounded, but Elijah grabbed the counter, pulled himself to his feet, slid a steak knife across the counter and lunged at Jeff. He plunged the knife into his shoulder—or maybe lower; I didn't quite see—and Jeff stumbled back, clutching the wound. Elijah fell, grasping at the window frame; I caught him before he hit the floor and held him there, cradling his head in my lap. I heard one of the girls scream and shouted back for them to stay where they were. _

_Just then, sirens wailed. A neighbor must have called the cops when they heard gunshots or maybe saw the flames. I don't care when they did; all I know is that the cops couldn't have chosen a better moment to come. _

_The front door crashed open, and I heard the police announce themselves. The remaining Klansmen fled. Somehow, they caught Jeff before he could slip away. I heard them say later that the knife had punctured one of his lungs. _

_Elijah was lifted into an ambulance. One of the officers said he'd take the girls and follow along, so I climbed into the ambulance with my husband. I held his hand as we sped down the road._

"_Don't worry," one of the paramedics said as he put an oxygen mask over Elijah's nose and mouth. He gave me a quick smile, but I didn't feel reassured. Elijah's eyes were open, looking from the paramedics to me and back again. _

_I reached up with my free hand and stroked his hair. "It'll be all right," I murmured. Then, to the paramedics: "He'll be all right?" _

"_We'll do our best, ma'am."_

_That didn't sound like a promise. I watched them press a wad of cloth to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but the blood just kept coming. Elijah squeezed my hand. _

_He looked right at me then, and I knew. One look and he told me what he and the paramedics knew: He wouldn't make it to the hospital. _

_I stroked his hair again. I hadn't cried until then, but the tears melted through whatever wall I'd put up to hold them back. "No," I whispered. "No. Please." _

_He squeezed my hand weakly. I lifted the back of his hand to my lips and kissed it, and his eyes closed. I don't think he heard me say "I love you." _

* * *

Danny was on his feet in an instant. Tucker swung his legs out of bed more reluctantly. "What's going on, Mrs. Walker?"

Laurie paused to open the door this time, beckoning both boys through. "We have to wake the others. Dan could be here any minute."

Danny jogged to catch up with her. "Dan? How do you know?"

She came to a stop and faced him. "Because your grandfather is about to do something very, very stupid, and if my guess is correct, Dan is counting on that stupidity to get to you." Laurie paused. Her words had struck their mark. "Now come on. I don't know how much time we have."


	48. Chapter 48

_Sorry this chapter is so long in coming, everyone. I've just been busy with college...and work...and terrible writer's block. Hopefully, these next few chapters will come a little more easily. _

* * *

Walker marched straight down the hallway like a tank. Someone called his name, but he didn't stop.

"Walker! Sir!"

He whirled so quickly the officer had to take a step back. "You got somethin' to say?"

"A ghost was sighted a short distance away, sir."

Walker continued on his course, not caring it the officer followed. "If he ain't doin' anything, don't bother me."

"He matches Dan's description."

Walker stopped. "How close is he?"

"Fifty yards, a few minutes ago. He vanished before we could target him."

"Well, what're you standin' here for? Get everyone on the alert and shoot that bastard down!"

* * *

"Maddie, get up."

Maddie's eyes snapped open, and she sat up. "Mom? What's going on?"

"We need to get out of here. You too, Jack."

Maddie was already on her feet, pulling her coat over her pajamas. "It's not Dan, is it?"

"Not yet, as far as I know. But I think—"

A muffled wail echoed through the tiny room, accompanied by the distant sound of breaking glass.

All three glanced at the door, then back to each other.

"I think he's here," Jack said.

* * *

Even though Jeff was too far from the windows for it to make a difference, he shielded his face from the shattering glass with his arm anyway. Force of habit, he supposed. Breaking glass could travel quite far.

Once the frantic shouts began, closing in on Dan at the front of the prison, Jeff calmly made his way to the back. He kept the windbreaker's hood pulled over his hair, hands stuffed in his pockets. The coat was thinner than he would have liked, but a windbreaker attracted less attention than a parka.

Glancing both ways, Jeff knelt beside the back wall and slipped the backpack from his shoulders. He set it down carefully, zipped it open and reached inside.

* * *

Satisfied that Jack and Maddie were awake, Laurie darted back into the hallway, pounded on the Foleys' door, and shouted for them. Mr. Foley swung it open so fast she had to take a step back.

"What's going on? We heard the crash."

"It's Dan," she said. Jack and Maddie stepped through the door behind her. A distant volley of gunfire confirmed his arrival.

"Where are Danny and Jazz?" Maddie asked.

"Toward the center of the prison, hopefully." She began walking. "Follow me."

* * *

Danny raced through the halls, Sam at his side, Tucker and Jazz in tow. He never looked back to see if they followed, but the sound of their footsteps slapping the tile was enough. As long as they were up and running, he could keep going.

They stopped to rouse Sam's parents, offer a quick word of explanation, and hurried on. Danny skidded around a corner, paused and listened.

"You hear them?" Sam asked.

"No."

Dan had insisted on a tight schedule, so Jeff hadn't had as long for his project as he would've liked. Something more stable would've taken more time than Dan was willing to give. Jeff hadn't argued much. He was as eager as anyone to get this campaign underway.

He checked this way and that, but saw no one. The shouts and gunfire came from the opposite side of the prison. A slight smile crossed his features. Dan was a mighty big distraction. Between the two of them, Elijah's prison didn't stand a chance.

He lifted the explosive carefully, stood and studied the wall. Waist level seemed a good spot. Shock and awe, combined with practicality.

Without wasting another second, Jeff shoved his hands through the wall, and then pulled back, leaving a bomb planted in the middle of the wall. A dozen steps back and he was clear of the blast range.

* * *

"Well, they couldn't have gone _that _far," Jazz said. "Are you sure this is where Gramma said to meet up?"

"Around here, yeah. But she was closer than we were…." Danny ran a hand through his white hair. "Maybe we should split up to find them."

Sam rolled her eyes. "As if _that_ ever works."

"Maybe Danny's right," Pamela said. "Someone needs to find them. Make sure nothing bad happened."

"Who, then?"

Five pairs of eyes locked on to Danny. He sighed, looking at the floor as he thought. "I'll go."

"I may as well go with you," Sam said. "The rest of you stay here. Danny?"

Danny nodded in agreement. "Jazz? You have your cell phone?"

Jazz nodded, reached into her pocket to prove it and came up empty-handed. "It's back in my room."

"I have mine," Tucker said. Jeremy also held up his cell phone.

"Call if we're not back in…." He glanced at Sam for a timeframe.

"Three minutes. Call if we're not back by then."

"Three minutes," Tucker repeated. "Okay."

With that, Danny and Sam disappeared around a corner.

* * *

The force of the blast knocked Laurie off her feet. She fell, hitting her head on the opposite wall. Wincing, she pulled herself onto her hands and knees. Dust from the shattered wall filled the air and she coughed.

Her first thought was Maddie, then Jack. Another mighty cough and she called for her daughter. "Maddie?"

No reply. Laurie blinked and saw her daughter lying a few feet away, completely still. "Jack?"

Through the ringing in her ears, Laurie heard laughter. Rough and sinister, the kind that comes when evil celebrates a victory. Then, a voice she'd hoped to never hear again.

"Laurie Walker." Jeff chuckled. "Been a while."

Pain struck her skull, and darkness claimed her.


End file.
